


Behind Closed Doors

by trakands



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6203008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trakands/pseuds/trakands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The people in this room, the leaders of the other two academies, we're the ones that keep the world safe from the evils no one even knows about."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Glancing briefly at his watch, Ozpin saw it would soon be ten o’clock, which suited him fine. It was that much closer to the end of the day. He reached the elevator at the base of the tower, scanned his scroll, and quickly began ascending first above classrooms, then rooftops, then clouds. He stifled a yawn as the elevator chimed, and he scanned his scroll once more. An electronic tone confirmed his identity, and Ozpin stepped onto the top floor. He felt a familiar presence before he saw her frame leaning against the chrome desk. A blue-hued screen projected before her, a complex jumble of notes, files, and folders.

“How’s it coming along?” Ozpin asked amiably, but he was met with a silencing gesture.

“Can I sit?”

Glynda nodded once.

Ozpin made his way behind her and sat back in his chair. There was no real use trying to work this late, especially without his projector, so he leaned back and allowed his eyes to close and his mind to wander, just for a moment. Soft digital taps and clicks complemented the quiet. Faintly, he heard his wristwatch ticking away.

After a few minutes, Glynda gave a sigh of tired accomplishment. “Three hundred and forty-eight,” she said.

“Is that low?” Ozpin asked without opening his eyes.

“Not especially, you’re just remembering last year’s class. That was over four hundred.”

“Hmmm.”

He heard a faint heel click and could feel her cross look; he opened his eyes halfway.

“Does the list need to be approved now?”

Walking around his desk, she donned her sweetest voice and smile. “Would you be a dear?”

He gave a soft laugh and stood nearly at the same time she sat heavily in the chair. “Please don’t change a thing,” she added. “I’ve been at this for weeks, and it’s perfectly balanced.”

“It always is.”

Glynda gave him a quick glance and a smirk as a yellow light blinked on her scroll. It rested on the center of Ozpin’s desk, providing the projection.

“Do you have your scroll? If that’s from Qrow, it may be urgent.”

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Ozpin reached in his pocket and passed it back to her. He continued flipping through the accepted applications.

“Raven’s daughter,” he murmured.

“I saw that, too,” Glynda absently replied. “He only said, ‘adjournment.’”

Ozpin nodded.

Just as Glynda began to close the scroll, a second notification lit up. Clicking it, she sighed with frustration, snapped the scroll shut, and set it down.

“What was that?”

“Vale Police Department. Dust shop robbery in progress.”

“And?”

“And?” she returned.

“Aren’t you going to follow up on it?”

“You must be joking.”

“You know when I’m joking.”

“This isn’t remotely worth my time.”

“Would you do it as a favor?”

He turned to face her, and she met his stare. “May I ask why?”

“The first-year letters will be ready to send in the morning,” he offered in exchange.

For a fraction of a second, Glynda felt the familiar weight of sadness that accompanied such responses. She hated that he had these secrets; they surrounded him like a tower. Using years of practice, she silenced this thought before it could fully form. There were reasons. There were rules.

She stood slowly, walked around the desk, and held his scroll between them. “You need mine for the notes, so I’m taking this. I won’t be long.”

Ozpin brushed the inside of her wrist with his fingers and traced a line down to her fingertips as she walked towards the door.

As the elevator door closed behind her, Ozpin finished skimming the accepted students and walked toward his small, personal kitchen.

 

“Can I have your autograph?”

Glynda gritted her teeth and took a deep breath.

“Like, on my face? Or my arm? Or my cloak? Or,” the girl reopened her weapon, “anywhere on here? I don’t think I have a marker, but –”

“What is your name?” Glynda asked coolly.

“Oh, yeah, I’m Ruby! That’s spelled R-U-”

Glynda peered at the girl over the rim of her glasses.

“B-Y,” the girl whispered. “Which is probably the only way to spell it…”

From the street below, Glynda heard police sirens. “Come with me, Ruby.”

It was somewhere between a command and a suggestion, and Ruby felt herself follow the stranger. Back on the ground, a team of officers surrounded them, and Ruby felt a wave of panic. She’d done nothing wrong!

Wait… were her headphones broken? Crap.

“Shit,” Glynda hissed to herself, opening Ozpin’s scroll and clicking her own name.

It rang three times before he answered, “Hello?” with half a laugh in his voice.

“I need you at the station.”

“Alright.”

“You have my scroll, so when I tried to explain to Vale’s finest who I am…”

“You only had my ID.”

“And I’ll need mine in order to speak with this girl,” she sighed heavily.

“Glynda?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

“Even with her in my way, this should have been easy. It was just a woman in a bullhead.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “That’s what worries me. Something was… off. I have a bad feeling about this, Ozpin.”

“Are you alright?” he asked again, more gently.

She smiled at the concern. “You have my scroll, you know I’m fine.”

On the other end of the line, Ozpin smiled and closed the page monitoring her aura.

“I’m sending some video footage to review on your way to the city.”

“I’ll be right there.”

 

When Ozpin arrived, scroll extended, Glynda took it gratefully and swiped it in front of an officer with the force of a blade. Scanning it, the young man began stumbling over his speech, searching for an apology.

Ozpin set a hand on Glynda’s shoulder, explaining to the officer that he was only doing his job, looking out for the security of the citizens of Vale. And, after all, is that not what they all sought to do?

Glynda rolled her eyes at his pandering and turned to face him.

“When on earth did you find time to bake cookies?”

“I started as soon as you left.”

She covered her face with her hands, counted to three, and turned to the officers in the room. “You’ll have to excuse us for a moment,” she said, unmoving. In short order, the room was cleared.

“Ozpin, what am I doing here?”

He glanced down the hall and then looked her in the eyes. “That little girl needed you. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she was tremendously outmatched by a criminal force that would not have hesitated to kill her. You saved her. You’re her hero.”

Glynda tried to shrug off the intensity of his stare. “That’s what we do.”

“That’s what you do.”

She opened her mouth, but was cut off. “Glynda, trust me.”

His watch ticked, ticked, ticked before she nodded. “I’ll go talk to her.”

 

Her spirit could be called admirable, but Ruby was a child. She needed time to grow and mature, despite her incredible skills in combat.

“Do you know who I am?”

“You're Professor Ozpin. You're the headmaster at Beacon.”

Ozpin smiled at the girl, “Hello.”

“Nice to meet you!”

Sensing his next words, Glynda shut eyes tightly. _Don’t you dare._

“You want to come to my school?”

“More than anything!”

She rolled her eyes and stared at the wall until she could no longer avoid his gaze. Applications were submitted, class numbers were settled, and the girl was two years too young for admittance.

Technically. She was too young to apply, not to be accepted.

_We’re on thin ice with the Vale Council already…_

She caught Ozpin’s gaze with a defeated sigh.

“Well, alright,” he finalized.

The girl shrieked loudly enough to crack glass. Springing out of her chair, she hugged them both, stumbled back awkwardly after realizing her mistake, asked for another autograph, looked even more mortified, and ran off.

The room was quiet for a moment as Ozpin sipped his coffee and Glynda took the seat vacated by Ruby.

“I know that you know what you’re doing, but…”

After another moment of silence, Ozpin stood and offered Glynda a hand. “Shall we go home?”

As she took his hand, she noted, “We’ll have to cut one of the first-years.”

“Or accept three more.” He opened the transcripts on her scroll.

“Don’t push it.”

They travelled in a comfortable silence, very nearly hearing one another’s thoughts until they arrived at the school gates.

“So, rather than reviewing the list I actually gave you, you added three rejected students and baked cookies?”

“You’ve never been one for exaggerated simplification, why start now?”

Neither spoke until they were inside the tower elevator, and even then, Glynda waited until they were safely on the top floor before speaking.

“I wish you could tell me everything,” she mused.

The tone of her voice weighed heavily on him. He wanted to wrap both arms around her, and hold her. He wanted to smell her hair and kiss her neck and tell her the story of the world, as only he knew it. He wanted to go through their time together, detailing every moment like this, and explain how he only ever wanted her to be safe.

As it was, he reached for a hand that didn’t want to be held.

“I trust you more than anyone.”

She sighed and gave his hand a light squeeze. “I know.”

Glynda turned, heels clicking on her way to the elevator. “It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He considered following her, but he had no satisfactory explanations, nothing sufficient to say. A few minutes later his scroll pinged; it was a text reminding him to sign off on the acceptance letters, followed by a brief ‘goodnight.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> The summary is, of course, under construction. This is going to be a somewhat non-linear story, set in present-day and in flashbacks, and will delve into the running of the academies and the meetings of the Frank L Baum-shell squad. Realistically, I'm hoping to update once a month. If anyone is interested in beta-reading, I'd really appreciate it, and I'll be able to have new chapters much faster! Just drop me a line. Thanks for reading and for sailing this ship with me.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to khayr for being a phenomenal beta and for putting up with my nonsense! And more thanks to everyone taking time of of their busy lives to read this. You're all my favorites.

**Eight Years Ago**

 

At the end of the last semester, Ozpin had crossed her path as she left the training arena and began walking back to her quarters. Their conversation was typical and pleasant until they approached the faculty housing building. She might have invited him in, but he would have declined. Their friendship was no secret, and no one thought twice about seeing them together. Campus walks and office visits were one thing, but anything more bordered on impropriety. During her three years at Beacon, she hadn’t decided if this rule was enforced by academy regulations or Ozpin himself.

“I have something for you to consider.”

“Alright.”

“Professor Knight will announce his retirement at the end of the week.”

Glynda’s eyes widened. “Do you have a replacement Grimm Studies instructor in mind?”

“I do, in fact, one of Dr. Oobleck’s former teammates.”

Glynda stifled a laugh. “Well, you do like to keep things lively.”

“I was rather hoping you’d consider Knight’s position as deputy headmaster.”

She’d felt incredibly honored and eagerly accepted the offer.

Now, sitting on his desk’s edge and drinking her sixth cup of coffee that night, she rubbed her eyes and regretted the decision.

It was her first initiation, and she had been awake since 3:30. It was well past midnight. They had taken the first student group to the Emerald Forest at 5:00 that morning and hadn’t left the cliff side until 9:00 that night. Since then, they had reviewed hundreds of individual students, the student pairs, and then decided how to combine those pairs into teams.

And the night still wasn’t over. They had assigned leaders to over sixty teams, but there were still dozens left.

From the middle of the room, Ozpin asked, “What do you think?”

Head in her hand, Glynda replied, “I think we should let them pick their own leaders from now on.”

“Ingenious.”

“It’s why you hired me.”

He smirked at her from across the room, and she peered over her hand to briefly return the expression.

“Remind me why the ceremony is at nine in the morning?”

“It’s tradition, one that hasn’t bothered you for the past three years.”

She flicked her wrist, and he felt a light shove.

“Some families stay in the area and want to celebrate with their children and their teammates. It’s a courtesy.”

She groaned and stood slowly, stretching her legs. She moved to stand beside him and asked, “Who’s next?”

Ozpin brought a team file onto the large projection screen. He dragged a photo to the center. Her deep brown eyes perfectly matched her curly hair.

“Anthea Blum was impressive.”

“Was she?” Glynda asked skeptically.

“She successfully held off a King Taijitu by making a cage from the surrounding trees.”

“I saw, but that wasn’t deliberate.”

“How so?”

Glynda pulled up a video. “Look at her, she has no control over her semblance.”

“It’s complex, true, but anyone with a significantly powerful ability develops it fully in adulthood. You were no exception.”

“There’s a difference between strengthening and developing your semblance over time and needing a nanny to hold your hand and teach basics. Look at her, she almost trapped her partner in there.”

“I think Anthea needs to develop her confidence and ability as a leader.”

“She can do that in a role that’s safer for herself and her team.”

Twenty minutes had passed, and neither showed signs of relenting. Finally, she groaned, “Please just explain why this is so important to you.”

“It’s not our job to make do with the easy or obvious choice. We place students where they have an environment to mutually grow.”

Glynda tapped her fingers on her arm and stared first at the projection and then at the clock. “I think this is risky.”

“Everything we do here is risky.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I suppose you’ve been doing this longer than I have. Fine, you wore me down. Finalize it and let’s move on. I’m getting more coffee.”

When she was across the room, he took a measured breath and relaxed. He felt his mug pulled from his hand and watched it lazily cross to her. He opened the next file when he heard her footsteps. For a minute, they both scanned the four students.

“Noel?” he suggested.

“No, her semblance is camouflage. That’ll lead to group tension if their leader can literally disappear on them.”

“Do you think she’d do that? She worked well with her partner during their encounters.”

“Doesn’t matter. Her talent is being evasive, and that’s not a quality that should be foremost in a leader. I think we should go with Jade.”

He clicked the name, finalized team JUNE, and opened a new folder.

Glynda looked at him quizzically.

“Jade was my choice as well,” he explained.

“Is everything some sort of test with you?”

For a flash, he looked like he was about to say something more, but the instant passed. Instead, he reviewed the next team.  

 

When the last team was finalized, Ozpin felt a familiar relief. They hadn’t finished a minute too soon; it was nearly six. Closing the projection, he walked across the room, made fresh coffee, and returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups.

He couldn’t help but smile at Glynda. Her head was in her arms, glasses askew, long hair still tangled from a day in the wind.

Checking the clock, he sipped his drink and decided she could afford a few minutes’ rest. As soon as the cup was empty, he set it aside and stood next to her. He felt strangely guilty about waking her. He whispered her name, but she didn’t move.

“Glynda,” he repeated in a speaking voice. Still, she didn’t respond. He felt a warm tightness in his chest. He knew she was exhausted, and he wanted her to be able to sleep. Mostly, he was very aware of the sound of her name. Of course, he’s said it enough over the years, but this felt different. It was more personal.

He lowered himself to be near her eye level. Trying one last time, he softly uttered her name, and she gave a deep, sleepy sigh. She shook her head in her arms, and tangled curls fell across her face. His breath caught in his throat, and he blinked away a dangerous series of thoughts. It was reckless, self-indulgent, and wildly out of line, but he couldn’t resist the urge to brush her hair back into place. His fingers ever so lightly swept across her face, and her eyes snapped open. An icy wave ran through him.

Instinct and years of training came and left her gaze in a flash. Her eyes closed heavily, and she sighed again. After a breath, she reached out her hand and covered his. Without thinking, he turned his palm up to hold her hand in his, but she had reached for his watch. She tilted its face toward her half-closed eyes and groaned at the time. As she pulled her hand back, his fingers brushed a line above her wrist to her fingertips.  

Sitting up, she rolled her shoulders and neck. “I’ll meet you back here in an hour. I need to look halfway presentable.”

She stood, gulped the nearly cold coffee, and left.

 

On stage and surrounded by students, she was thankful she wasn’t required to speak. In nearly all cases, students knew who would be assigned to their team, making the whole process relatively quick. Leaders were formally announced, and the group left the stage. Four names, a leader, a team name, maybe a hug. Done. Each team only took about a minute.

When team AQUA was called, Glynda noticed Anthea’s small, nervous wave at Ozpin. He gave her a reassuring nod, and Glynda passingly wondered how he knew the girl. Though as soon as Anthea returned to the crowd Glynda forgot about her completely. She was too exhausted for trivial inquiries.

Ozpin must have delivered some parting words to the first-years, but she didn’t process them. The crowd hurried out of the auditorium. He touched her arm lightly, signaling her to follow him behind the heavy curtain. Her legs reluctantly carried her until she leaned against a wall and crossed her arms. He followed suit, standing close enough for their shoulders to touch.  

“You survived.”

“One down,” she agreed, dreading next year. For a minute, they listened to the noise of the students. “Are we hiding until everyone leaves?”

“Essentially.”

“Professor Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon, hiding from a swarm of parents.”

“I’d sooner take my chances with everything lurking outside the kingdoms.”

She was too tired to laugh. Realizing this, she leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Being as tall as she was, it wasn’t an action she could often do. It made the gesture even more comforting.

“You’re not as fearless as I thought,” she teased.

“That is absolutely true.” His answer carried a quiet gravity she hadn’t expected, but it was gone in the next breath. “Though I might point out that goes for you, as well. You’re right here with me.”

“So it would seem.”

He scanned their surroundings before reaching across her back and resting his hand on her arm, just below her shoulder. He drew circles on the sleeve of her dress and felt her lean heavily against him. Her hair fell across his hand and brushed his cheek. He turned his head and didn’t quite kiss the top of hers. He’d never realized her hair smelled so familiar.

“Rise and shine, everyone,” came a familiar half-shout.

Glynda stood upright.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Ozpin answered in a mellow tone.

“I wasn’t really expecting me, either, but I wanted the kid to have a familiar face in town.”

“How thoughtful.”

“That’s me.”

“Glynda, this is Qrow Branwen, longtime friend and instructor at Signal Academy.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She extended her hand and received a dismissive nod. Too aware of the tension, she turned to Ozpin. “Excuse me, sir, but I’m going to sleep for a week or two. Mr. Branwen.”

The two men watched her cross the curtain.

“So… that’s your girl?”

“Let’s talk in my office.”

“Let’s not. I don’t have time for an office talk.”

“Anthea seems to be settling in well.”

“Great.” Qrow had known him too long for any conversational slight-of-hand. “Look, I’m gonna get this out of the way. If you’re all hot for teacher,” Ozpin gave a cutting glare he ignored, “then get it out of your system and drop this. Members don’t get added to our little club, Oz. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I follow you semi-blindly on a daily basis. But even I’m not gonna let those stilettos put us at risk.”

After a tense silence, Ozpin asked, “Are you through?”

“For now.”

“We need her.”

Qrow watched him intently.

“I’ve explained this already.”

“Oh, I know, believe me. Look who we’re talking about. The paper her resume gets printed on could kick my ass, but now I’m worried about your judgement. Don’t give me that look, Oz. You were smelling her hair, for fuck’s sake. You crossed the line of objectivity miles back.”

Ozpin opened his scroll and passed it to Qrow. “This is a video from last night, when we were discussing Anthea’s team. You might listen to the JUNE discussion, as well.”

“How long is this?”

“Reasonably, but I won’t have you thinking I’m bringing her into this for less than reputable reasons.”

He skipped through the file indifferently for a few moments. “Alright, you made your point. Don’t get all touchy, you know I had to ask. Checks and balances, blah, blah, blah.”

“Of course.”

Qrow glanced back at the screen. “Sure as hell wouldn’t kick her out of bed.”

“You should tell her that.”

He laughed and returned the scroll. “Pretty sure she’s one of the two people on the planet who could actually put me in the ground.”

Ozpin made no move to disagree.

“Alright, I’m off. Gotta get back to my real-life job.”

“Take care, Qrow.”

Using his semblance to turn into his namesake, Qrow flew above the curtain and began the trek to Signal.

 

It was nearly a month into the school year, and Ozpin was grateful elevator doors couldn’t slam. He’d seen Glynda create fearsome thunderstorms, and the electric feeling in the air was eerily similar.

“Do me a favor and pretend you didn’t know about this.”

She threw her scroll on the desk. A hologram emerged displaying a dozen student transcripts from the four academies, identical except for the names. The first belonged to Anthea Blum, a first year from Mistral.

Ozpin took a long, deliberate drink of coffee, looking at Glynda from over the rim of his mug.

Arms crossed, she waited for an explanation.

“Well, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“Are you?”

“You said—”

“You’re right,” she snapped, “I did. Thank you for humoring me. Now, what the hell is this?”

“If I had to guess, it’s a fifty lien transcript forgery.”

She gritted her teeth and said nothing.

“It’s really the fault of whomever reviews applications before you. Someone should have caught the plagiarism.”

“Try again.”

He sighed and set his cup aside. Thinking he could smile his way through this had been wishful thinking.

“You’re right to be angry.”

“Why, thank you for the validation.” Her voice was quiet and lethal.

“I should have told you at her initiation. I didn’t mean to…” he searched for words. “I don’t want you to feel…”

“Manipulated?” she suggested at the same time he said, “In the dark.”

Tense silence filled the room.

“We have known each other for three years.” Each word was slow and deliberate. “And we are past this cloak and dagger bullshit. Three weeks ago we sat here for hours, and you raved about this girl and why she should lead one of our teams.”

“I meant every word.”

“I’m sure.”

“You wouldn’t have allowed her assignment.”

“Absolutely not!”

“And I need her here.”

“Why?”

“That answer is complicated. I couldn’t risk you turning her away.”

“But that’s my decision. We don’t pass out acceptance letters as favors, and you don’t decide what information I have access to.”

His eyes were cold and steely as he gave her a meaningful look.

Glynda looked away and gave a bitter laugh. “Fine. We can be like that. Good evening, _sir_.” She turned and walked for the door. Halfway across the room, she heard his low voice.

“I don’t expect you to always understand, but there are pawns that need to be positioned.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?”

“As I said…”

“I know you’re this grand puppet master, and it was probably naïve of me to think I don’t have strings, but you might have had the decency to tell me I’ve been making a fool of myself.”

“You have no way of seeing this on the scale it deserves. This goes far beyond you and I as…”

“That’s a good place to end that thought.”

He looked exhausted, older than she’d ever seen him, and she felt like a child.

“Maybe I don’t see this on the same scale as you, Ozpin, but that’s not the issue here. The fact is you don’t trust me, and I don’t know why.”

His face was unreadable.

“If you don’t see why this is a problem, there’s a lot we need to reevaluate.”

This time, he didn’t stop her as she left.

 

For the next several weeks, their interactions were civilized and succinct. Her outburst had been, at the very least, unprofessional. He had more than enough reason to terminate her position. That fact lurked in the back of her mind every time she saw him. One morning, Ozpin caught her outside the training arena.

“When does your last class end today?”

“Four o’clock.”

“Could you come by my office afterwards?”

“Of course,” she glanced at him through the corner of her eye. “Should I be worried?”

“Have I given you any reason to be?”

She sidestepped the question. “What will this be regarding?”

“I’d prefer to discuss that this evening.”

“Naturally,” she scoffed. “You’ve officially given me reason to worry.”

“Until later, then.”

She nodded and walked inside.

For the rest of the day, Glynda felt a faint haze in her mind. Try as she might, she kept questioning the nature of this meeting. Whatever he planned to discuss with her, he hadn’t given her any time for questions.

As the elevator ascended, Glynda tapped her fingers anxiously.

“Please, scan your scroll for identification,” prompted the airy, automated voice. She complied and quickly stepped onto the familiar office floor.

Ozpin stood by his desk, pouring two cups of coffee. Without preamble he began, “Some time ago, you asked me why I don’t trust you.”

Glynda blushed and accepted the mug. “And I thought we silently agreed to never mention that again.”

Ozpin smiled quickly as he leaned on the desk. “It’s imperative you know that isn’t true.”

She nodded slowly, allowing him to continue.

“When I offered your new position, it wasn’t without an ulterior motive.”

Her expression was guarded.

After a moment he asked, “What’s your favorite fairy tale?”

She nearly dropped the mug and turned on her heels. “I’m leaving.”

From the corner of the room, she heard a rustle of feathers and a harsh laugh.

“Yeah, maybe don’t lead with that next time.” Glynda recognized the man from the commencement ceremony. She stretched one hand, and her crop flew into it.

“You did kind of grab the Griffon by the tail with this setup, Oz,” groaned Qrow, pulling his sword from behind his back.

Glynda quickly looked him up and down, eyes lingering on his weapon. “Seriously?”

He perfectly mimicked the gesture. “Is that really a conversation you want to have?”

“Just who the hell are you?” she demanded.

Ozpin’s head was in his hands. “Both of you stop.”

For a moment, neither moved.

“She’ll be here any minute,” Ozpin cautioned Qrow. The man gave Glynda a quick nod before returning his weapon, and she followed suit.

“Well, I think this is going well.” Glynda and Ozpin shot him identical glares, and he made a mock grimace. A notification lit up above the desk. Glynda turned to Ozpin and asked, “Who is that?” and the screen responded with a photograph and name.

“Anthea?” she questioned, overwhelmed with confusion.

Qrow nodded. “Yup, the gang’s all here. You might want to sit down.”

“I’ll stand.”

“Or do whatever the hell you want.”

Ozpin tapped a key, and the elevator door opened. Anthea waved with the same small, shy gesture she gave him on stage.

“Hi, Mr. Branwen.”

He gave her a warm smile. “Hey, kid.”

Anthea shifted on her feet. “So…”

Ozpin’s voice was quiet and comforting. “Start at the beginning, Anthea. Tell her everything.”

 

Qrow had been right; she needed to sit down.

Nearly six months ago a woman named Violet died in her husband’s arms, and the summer maiden’s powers circumnavigated the globe before falling upon Anthea. That was the long and short of it, but the telling took hours. Glynda couldn’t believe any of it, but then the girl conjured a flickering flame in her hand.

“I’m not very good with fire, thankfully. You saw what happens when I try nature. My semblance used to be with air, funny enough,” a miniature cyclone replaced the flame but only for an instant. “But now everything is just…”

“Too much?” Glynda offered.

“Too much,” she agreed. “It’s hard to trust myself.

Glynda nodded in understanding.

“I woke up one day, and everything was just out of control. I’m lucky Mr. Branwen found me as soon as he did.”

“Damn lucky,” he agreed solemnly.

“Have you met the other…?” Glynda paused, unsure what to call the other three women. Anthea nodded in affirmation.

“Briefly. They’ve been very, I don’t know, welcoming might be the best word. They call me their little sister. The oldest offered to try to help me, but,” she glanced quickly at Ozpin, “apparently it’s too dangerous to have more than one of us in the same place for so long.”

“I can imagine.”

Qrow looked at Glynda from across the room. “Not yet you can’t.”

Ozpin checked his watch. “It’s getting late, Anthea, you must be starving.”

“I’m alright,” she answered as her stomach growled loudly. “I don’t know why I lied. I could eat the dining hall.”

“Qrow, why don’t you walk her.”

He looked from Ozpin to Glynda and pushed himself off the wall. “Come on, kid, let’s pretend we’re not all gonna talk about each other.”

Her eyes awkwardly flickered between all three of them before she followed Qrow to the elevator.

Glynda covered her face with her hands and sat quietly for several minutes. Ozpin rested a hand on her shoulder. Finally, she said, “I can’t believe the peace and safety of everyone alive rests in the hands of a child.”

“She’s not alone. We’re here for her and her sisters.”

“No, not Anthea.”

Ozpin laughed. “He grows on you. Give him time.”

She was quiet for a while longer. “This is not how I thought my day would go.”

“What were you expecting?”

“To be fired, which would have taken less of an emotional toll, honestly.”

She felt both his hands on her shoulders, and her body visibly relaxed. “How are you feeling?”

There were a thousand answers to that question: exhausted, overwhelmed, relieved, understanding, terrified. She placed a hand on one of his, aware that for nearly two months they were scarcely in the same room. Questions and realizations flitted across her mind, but they could wait. For now, the comfortable silence was enough.

A blue screen announced Qrow’s return. Glynda released his hand, he took two calculated steps away, and the door opened at Ozpin’s command.

“So, that was your first meeting. Next time you get your scout badge, and we have monthly bake sales.” He took a quick drink from his flask, and Glynda reached out her hand.

“I don’t know you that well,” he objected.

It flew out of his hand before he could stop it. “Bitch.”

She shrugged then grimaced as the liquor touched her lips. “This tastes like shoe polish.”

“People polish shoes?”

“Some of us even wash our shirts.”

“Who the hell owns more than one shirt?”

She returned the flask and watched him smirk over its rim.

“Did Anthea mention when she wants to start working with me?”

“The sooner the better,” Qrow agreed. “We don’t want her attracting any unnecessary attention, and that’s flat-out inevitable unless she controls her powers. She’s set and ready.”

It was easier to focus on aiding Anthea as a student rather than a maiden; she felt in her element. “I’ll coordinate with her tomorrow. With our surroundings it won’t be difficult to find a discrete location.”

Qrow nodded. “Thanks for this, by the way. It’s… it’s a lot to ask and take on, but this poor girl’s scared out of her mind. So thanks.”

“Of course. It’s what I do.”

“So I hear. Well,” he leaned forward on his toes, “glad to see we’re all friends again. Except for us, you booze-stealing, scythe-mocking—”

“But it’s a sword,” her tone was flat.

Smirking, he drew the weapon, and with a click it expanded to its full size.

“You know that thing girls say about boys with big trucks?”

“Fuck you.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, they actually sell these little blue pills that—”

“Hey, with packet of those, a protein bar, and everything you’re wearing that’s black, I’m thinking we’ve got ourselves a Friday night.”

“You impertinent little—”

“Hey, you don’t get to switch from dick jokes to English professor just because you’re losing.”

Ozpin cleared his throat. “Will you be staying in the city tonight?”

“Yeah, Signal’s already on break, so I’m sticking around for a couple days. Got a friend in town who has a thing for trucks.”

Glynda scoffed, and Qrow winked.

“I’m checking in on Anthea tomorrow, I’ll probably catch you around before I head back to Patch for a bit.” He took a swig from his flask and marched to the door. Just before it closed, he called, “Give me a call if you and the whip get bored, princess.”

 

On Sunday morning, Glynda sat curled on her sofa in her robe. A well-worn book was propped open on her knees, and she sipped a cup of dark, hot tea. She recognized Ozpin’s knock, but it would have more than unusual for him to be at her door. When she called, “Come in,” it sounded more like a question. The door slid open, and the approaching footsteps were too quick and heavy. Her head jerked up, and she saw Qrow carrying a large paper bag.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I brought breakfast.”

“For ten people?”

Qrow shrugged and set the bag in front of her. “I just bought one of everything at the shop. I don’t really know what girls eat.”

“Oh, we don’t.”

“Well, that works out well, because I usually kick off the day with seven different bagels.”

“Should I tear them up into little pieces for you?”

“Ha-ha, hey, I know a bird joke, too.” He made a rude gesture.

Glynda shut her book and shook her head. “Well, as long as you’re here, would you like some tea? I just made a pot.”

“Sure, thanks.” He hadn’t touched a cup of tea in years. While she stood and walked to the kitchen, he examined the book on the armrest.

“ _Violet’s Garden?_ ”

“I reread it every few years. Milk or sugar?”

He looked at the inside cover and saw a long, untidy message written inside. “Neither. Did an old boyfriend give you this?”

“That’s a bit personal, isn’t it?”

“Sorry.” He replaced the book as she returned with the tea, and he sat in the chair across from the sofa. “You know; your place looks exactly like you. It’s very…” he gestured vaguely.

“I’m sure it is. Do you have the time? I’m not wearing my watch.”

Qrow reached in his pocket and checked his scroll. “Quarter to ten.”

“So, just to clarify, you do have your scroll, and your name should have been displayed before I answered the door in my robe on a Sunday.”

“Know a guy for long enough, and you learn how he knocks on a door.” He reached into the bag and randomly took a pastry. “I had to know you’d let me in.”

“And we’re back to my original question.”

He glanced down, took a breath, and looked at her with a set expression. “There’s a couple things I just want out in the open. Have you and Oz talked it out since Friday?”

“That’s a bit personal, too.”

When he didn’t respond, she scanned his face before answering, “No, not with the end of the semester schedule. We’ve both been busy.”

“Alright, good. So, on Friday we told you how Anthea inherited her powers about half a year ago, and it took about two weeks for me to track her down, right?”

“Those details came up, yes.”

“The second I brought her to Oz he told us we were going to need your help. Poor girl’s a powder keg. We all knew she needs someone with the ability, willingness, and skill to teach her how to control her powers, and any of us only had two of those three things, tops.”

She faintly smiled into her tea.

“I’m going to be honest, I didn’t want you on board. I’m sorry about that. Hindsight.”

“I understand.”

“And I wasn’t even the big roadblock. The other three academy headmasters had synchronized heart attacks when Oz first mentioned bring you into this. If you ask any of us, we’ll tell you that Ozpin’s in charge. He’s the one ultimately calling the shots, but we exist as a collective. We don’t let any one person have reigning authority, not even Oz. So, yeah, it took a while before enough of us agreed to let someone new into our super-secret clubhouse.”

She nodded.

“Look… I think it’s important you know he was fighting for you. He’s been king of this playground as long as I’ve known him, but I’ve never seen it weigh on him until the past few years.”

Glynda twisted her empty cup in her hands. “Why are you telling me any of this?”

Qrow’s eyes lit up, thrilled to have been asked. He stretched his legs onto the coffee table and popped the last of the pastry in his mouth. “I guess you could say I consider myself an incredible wingman.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Told you I know bird jokes.”

“You did.”

“But, my top-notch wit aside, Ozpin’s basically part of my family. He’s pretty important to me, and apparently you’re pretty important to him. Following the math, you’re important to me now, too.”

“The math?”

“Sure, if A causes B, and B causes C –”

“I don’t think you understand causality.”

“I’m a teacher. I understand everything.” He took a long drink. “I never drink tea, but this isn’t bad.”

“Are you another coffee aficionado?”

“Nope, never touch the stuff.” As he spoke, he reached into his pocket, took out the flask, and topped off the drink. “Caffeine’s super bad for you.”

They were both quiet for a few minutes before Glynda surprised herself by saying, “The book was a gift from my teammate.”

He nodded slowly and took a drink. “Is he still around?”

“She... and no”

“That’s some terrible handwriting for a ‘she.’”

Glynda smiled. “I know; it used to drive me crazy.”

A few seconds passed before he quietly asked, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now.”

“Well, you know, if you ever do… Even if it’s just out of necessity, I guess we trust each other now.” He shrugged and took a long drink.

“So it would seem.”

Qrow grinned at stood from the chair. “Alright, well, I better get going if I’m gonna catch Anthea before my ship leaves.”

“Are you taking this with you?” She nudged the bag with her foot.

“Nope,” he called, hurrying to the door.

“What am I supposed to do with -?”

“Good talk, Glyn, let’s do it again sometime!”

She heard the door slide open and closed. With a half-hearted sigh and a shake of her head, she leaned back and opened her book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any requests/thoughts/suggestions, feel free to leave them here or message on tumblr!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up not too long after the end of chapter two. Once it delves into spring, it's pretty much seven years pre-canon. An extra special thanks to khayr for fixing my mistakes and putting up with my nonsense.

Seven Years Ago

 

Campus had been eerily silent for the past several days. The Vytal Festival began immediately after second semester finals, and every year students frantically rushed to the hosting academy. This year it was Atlas. Though a handful of Beacon’s staff followed this wave of enthusiasm, Glynda opted to stay behind. She preferred the school’s stillness to the pandemonium of the festival grounds. After four years at Beacon she knew Ozpin also declined the trip, but her predecessor Professor Knight had been vocal about his annual attendance. She was relieved to learn her new appointment didn’t necessitate a presence at the event.

Instead, she sat across from Ozpin at his desk, rapidly making her way through her end of year task list. Making sure all was finalized for the new graduates, she felt an overwhelming sense of pride. These were the first young men and women who she had trained all four years, and now they were leaving to better protect the world.

Well, first they’d spend a week or two making liver-killing decisions at the festival. Yet another reason she preferred her current arrangement.

Like everyone else not currently seated in Amity Colosseum, they had the live feed streaming. It was the second day of team matches, but since no one from Beacon was currently competing Glynda comfortably tuned out the announcers.  

In all honesty, Ozpin was finding it more entertaining to watch her than the screen. The volume was just loud enough to hear the teams change. She’d glance at the screen, size up the competitors in a matter of seconds, and return to her work. If she recognized a team name, she watched her students intently. Nothing could break her concentration. He could tell more about a match’s outcome from her tapping fingers, frustrated sighs, and satisfied smirks than from the official commentary. Only once thus far had she watched a competing school’s match until the end.

“What made this one so interesting?” he asked.

“Were you not watching?”

“No, but you were.”

Her eyes flicked to his. She bit back a question, and gestured to a figure on screen. “He’ll go on to the single’s round.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“But you don’t expect him to win?” he asked.

“No.”

“And why’s that?”

Glynda looked him in the eye with a small, smug grin that rang with, “ _Because I didn’t train him_.”

He’d laughed, and she’d shrugged and returned to her scroll. She hadn’t moved for another half hour, and that was only to twist her hair into a careless yet impeccable bun.

As the last match of the day drew to a close, Ozpin’s scroll began to chime. He touched the screen projecting the festival and pushed it further to the end of the desk. A second screen appeared, notifying him of an incoming call from Hari Soleil, headmaster of Atlas Academy.

Glynda had met with the man only a few times. Even in his old age, he had a commanding presence. His dark skin contrasted his light blue eyes, and his black hair stubbornly refused to grey. He was a quiet man, and though his academy ran flawlessly by all standards, he gave an air of detachment from his students. She would have described him as efficient.

“Professor Ozpin,” greeted a deep, resounding voice.

“Good evening, Hari.”

“Are you alone?”

From the other side of the screen, Glynda’s eyes met his.

“Yes, I am.”

Soleil nodded. “I need to speak with you before I contact the other headmasters or make any formal announcement.”

“Certainly, what –?”

“I am stepping down as headmaster.”

Ozpin’s eyes widened in surprise.

“The Atlesian Council has elected the recently promoted General Ironwood as my successor,” Soleil continued. “I learned of their decision today. It will be announced at the closing ceremony of the festival.”

Ozpin looked past the screen and met Glynda’s eyes again. Her fingers covered her lips, reminding herself to stay silent.

Looking back to Soleil, he said only, “I appreciate you telling me this.”

Soleil nodded again. “After the festival, I will no longer be privy to the… meetings with the other headmasters. If there is any assistance I may offer before then, inform me as quickly as possible.”

He looked off screen for a moment before returning to Ozpin. “I’m needed elsewhere, I’m afraid. The match has ended, and I need to make a brief appearance.”

“Of course.”

With no further farewell, the video ended.

“Always a pleasure, Hari,” murmured Ozpin. He ran his fingers through his hair before resting his face in his hands.

Glynda’s mind ran circles around the implications of the call. She sat quietly, watching the man across from her.

Minutes and minutes passed, and he said nothing.

She took a deep breath, worried about the sound even that created. Finally, she asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

The continued silence shouldn’t have surprised her.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

She nodded to herself and stood from her chair. Her heels clicked on the hard floor, but she no longer worried about the noise. Maybe a cup of coffee would help him focus or calm his nerves. Either way, it gave her something to do. By the time she added unreasonable amounts of cream and sugar, nearly twenty minutes had passed since his talk with Soleil.

Glynda stood beside him and set down the mug. She reached out a hand towards him, thought better of it, and walked purposefully to sit across from him once more. Crossing one leg over the other, she leaned back into the chair.

“Silence is getting you nowhere.”

Her direct tone brought him out of his trance. Sitting up straight, he took a thankful drink of coffee.

“With any luck, Hari is contacting the other two academies. I’d much rather not explain the situation to them.”

“It’s foolish to count on luck.”

“Painfully true,” he agreed, shaking his head. “When they learn Atlas appointed a military figurehead as headmaster, they will be most displeased.”

She smirked at the understatement. “Mistral in particular,” she added. Despite her militaristic attitude, Professor Asher was notoriously vocal about her objections to any and all armed forces.

“Mistral in particular,” he mirrored with a heavy sigh.

“I’m inclined to agree with her on this. Everything we do is in the name of secrecy, and I can’t imagine discretion being a general’s priority.”

Ozpin nodded.

Glynda felt a chill at her next thought. “What if he tried to… use them somehow?”

“Use?”

“Weaponize.”

“That crossed my mind as well. We’ve never had such an issue with Atlas, but the headmaster never had direct military influence.”

Glynda crossed her arms tightly, her mind lingering on an image of Anthea surrounded by stone-faced soldiers, crying and alone.

“I entirely understand the objections everyone will feel about incorporating the new headmaster,” he continued, “But our biggest threat would be in alienating all of Atlas. Our organization is older than the kingdoms, but for nearly a century it’s been stronger and more cohesive. We can’t afford to lose that alliance.”

For a few minutes, they sat with only the ticking clock and his tapping fingers breaking the silence. Finally, he asked, “Any thoughts?”

“A few… I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve been around long enough to fully wrap my mind around the situation. Instinctively, I don’t want to involve Atlas. I think it’s an unnecessary threat to the maidens. On the other hand, in matters like this, I trust your judgement more than mine. Your experience outweighs mine. Either way, I’m sure Soleil will contact the other two headmasters tonight. All we can do is wait until everyone’s been informed and can discuss it as a group.”

“I suppose that also leaves me with the responsibility to notify Qrow.”

“That should be pleasant.”

Ozpin sighed heavily, opened his scroll, and began the call.

 

For Ozpin, the resulting conference had been nothing short of disaster.

Asher’s opposition, on behalf of Mistral, had been expected, but the vehemence mirrored by Qrow was shocking. Haven’s headmaster, swayed by their passion and initially uncertain in his stance, had tipped the scales. Ironwood’s appointment came and went, and he remained blissfully ignorant of the darkest dangers in their world. Ozpin had arranged a tenuous agreement that Atlas might be reincorporated into their ranks, but he wasn’t overly hopeful.

In the weeks since the beginning of the spring semester, Glynda hadn’t dwelled on the matter. Springs were always challenging, bringing with them hundreds of new students and their unique strengths, aspirations, and techniques, and she was responsible for learning all of these. Then, of course, there was Anthea and the hours set aside for her. Her skills and control were always improving, but she still needed guidance. With all that weighing on her, Atlas and the general were crossing her mind less and less often.

One evening, she sat in her office, reviewing sparring footage from her first-year classes. She drummed her fingers on her desk, wondering what exactly was missing this year. On the whole, the class lacked chemistry, and she was at a loss for how to help them as teams and students.

A chime from her scroll woke her from her thoughts, and she saw a brief message from Ozpin asking her to meet in his office. Despite the casual wording, she felt an earnestness in the text. Immediately, she made her way to the clocktower. It was late enough in the day that she encountered few people on her walk, and she counted herself lucky that no one stopped her.

Once in the elevator, she scanned her scroll, and the doors opened for her on the top floor. With the exceptions of her and Ozpin, there was a confirmation required to access the headmaster’s office. Now and then she remembered that he had lifted that barrier between them, and it brought a slight smile to her face. Today, though, she focused on the tone of his message and hoped all was well. As she stepped into the office, she heard him cut himself short mid-sentence.

“Ah, here she is,” he said, gesturing toward her. A figure standing beside him turned slowly and smiled.

Glynda turned and let out a short, awestruck gasp. The woman before her was in every way reminiscent of a forest. Her body was tall, strong, and filled with shades of hickory and cedar. Long, thick curls circled her face, and her deep eyes were flecked with gold. Freckles covered her cheeks like lily pads on a pond. Something about her was ageless. Ancient wisdom shone from her. She brought with her a sense of warmth, a contradiction of serenity and alacrity.

She must have felt Glynda’s stare, and she gave a knowing smile crossing the distance between them. “I’m sure we’ve heard much about each other,” she greeted, still smiling. “Glynda, isn’t it? My name is Fern.”

Instinctively, Glynda extended a hand, but the other woman laughed sweetly. Instead, Fern pulled her into tight hug and kissed both her cheeks.

“I’m long past due to meet my keeper’s right hand.” This time, there was an edge to her smile. Before Glynda could respond, Fern turned to face Ozpin. “I can’t stay more than a minute, but I needed this conversation to be face-to-face. I can’t risk being intercepted.”

“You could always ask Qrow to –”

“I have spoken with Qrow,” she interrupted. “And he knows my intentions. This is a courtesy call, because I owe you that much and more.”

Ozpin nodded, and she continued with a bittersweet sigh, “I’m getting old, Ozpin. It took a while, but I’m accepting that now. I lived long enough to see my fortieth birthday. That’s a lifetime and a half for most of my sisters.”

Glynda’s eyes were wide. Again, Fern noted her expression.

It was impossible to read her expression as she explained, “You know what I am, Glynda, and we maidens seldom die in our beds.”

Quickly, she turned her face back to Ozpin. “I’ve saved you the trouble and found my successor. She lives on a farm not far from me, and I’ve had my eye on her for a few years. I know she’s the best choice to become the next Fall. I’ve felt it since I met her.”

“What’s her name?” As soon as she asked, Glynda wondered if it was an inappropriate first question to ask the Fall maiden, but Fern smiled in response.

“Amber,” she replied.

“And Qrow has her location?”

Glynda thought the question rather tasteless, but Fern answered easily. “He does. I spoke with him a while ago, but the issue’s becoming more pressing.” Her meaning was unmistakable.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Even to her, Glynda’s voice was soft, pleading, and quite unlike her own.

“The human body can only take so much, my dear. The powers my sisters and I possess… They take a toll… Anyway, Ozpin,” her tone became brisk and impassive, “About Amber. She’ll be old enough to enroll in one of the academies in a few years. I know it goes without saying, but I need to say it. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“I promise.”

She grinned and looked over at Glynda. “To be fair, I should probably be asking you. Anthea’s told me she already feels stronger and more confident with her powers. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for her, and I know you’ll be there for Amber when she needs you.”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed.

Fern nodded before addressing them both. “I should go. I’m already breaking a few rules by being on the same campus as Summer. And don’t be too angry with Qrow. I asked him not to speak with you about Amber.” She stepped closer to Ozpin and kissed his cheek. As she stepped back, there was a long, fateful look between them. The rare, tragic look of two friends who knew they would never meet again.

Crossing to Glynda, she kissed both her cheeks and was surprised to feel herself held tightly by the near stranger.

“Until next time,” Fern whispered.

As the elevator doors closed, Glynda felt as if the room had become dark and cold. She bit down on her lip, fighting back tears. She cursed her irrationality. Really, this woman was a stranger to her. She had no right or reason to feel anything at all. How many people had she known in passing throughout her life, after all? But her attempted self-consolation was useless.

Here was one of the four women Glynda had sworn to protect with her life, and she would never see her again. This woman, not much older than herself, had resigned herself to death at the hands of her powers, powers she never asked for and a life she likely never wanted.

She heard Ozpin’s light footsteps approach her, but her eyes stayed fixed on the ground.

Glynda opened her mouth, but her voice choked on a question. Shaking her head and clearing her throat, she focused on her question, “Does it ever get easier?”

He didn’t hesitate before answering, “Yes.”

When her eyes met his, she was struck with the differences between them.

 

Objectively, it was an unremarkable Thursday sometime in April. Their meetings with Qrow were sporadic and there was often very little warning of his appearances. The sky was just beginning to glow orange, and Qrow reclined with both feet propped on Ozpin’s desk, tossing a straw hat between his hands. His eyes had long since drifted closed.

“Anything else?” Ozpin probed.

“Sure, there’s a shit-ton else, I just decided to wait until you asked.” Smirking at Glynda’s frustration, he cautioned, “It’s like I tell my niece, ‘Don’t roll your eyes like that, sweetie, they’ll get stuck that way.’”

“How are the girls?” Ozpin asked before Glynda could retort.

“Great, actually, they’re great. I mean, as far as they know, both their moms are dead, and I haven’t seen them in about a year because I’m running around as your errand boy. But, yeah, the girls are great. Thanks for asking.”

“You know we need you to-”

“Oz, I’m a babysitter. Hell, I’m less than a babysitter. Right now, my entire life is sitting on a post watching a fourteen-year-old girl pick fruit and play hide-and-seek with her cousins.”

“We need eyes on her,” Glynda replied.

“Yupp.”

“And your semblance makes you…”

“Ideally suited for the task at hand,” she finished with a thread of sarcasm.

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you even listening?” she snapped.

“Right, right.”

“Qrow,” Ozpin warned.

He sighed, reaching for his flask. “There’s a fine line between not listening and not caring,” he took a long gulp. “I like to think I walk that line every day of my life.”

Glynda flicked a finger, and the flask soared across the room. “That was just fucking uncalled for.” He continued tossing the hat.

“Why is he here?” Glynda asked sharply.

“I second that question,” Qrow chimed.

“And what is that?” she demanded, glancing at his hands.

“Snatched it up on my way here.” He propped the hat on his head. “I’m a scare-Qrow, get it? Get it? It’s because-”

“Qrow!”

“Exactly!” He gave the hat a little tilt. “I think I look pretty dashing.”

Glynda’s eyes were livid.

“I understand you want to leave before it’s too late. I prefer to hear your updates in person on occasion,” said Ozpin amiably.

“Gotta make sure I’m still breathing and all. You’re getting sappy, Oz.” Qrow stood smoothly and walked briskly towards the elevator doors. “Always a pleasure,” he called with a wave, and the door shut behind him.

With a heavy sigh, Glynda stepped backwards until her back leaned against the window behind the desk. She rubbed her eyes.

“He’s warming up to you.”

“What a relief.”

After a moment, Ozpin asked, “Does he really exhaust you so much?”

“No. I mean, yes, but no.” She crossed her arms loosely and shifted her weight to one foot. “It’s not just Qrow. One more child isn’t a strain compared to the hundreds I see every day… It’s… My first years are really struggling this year. I don’t know what’s different, and I don’t know what to do… Anyway, you must have seen Asher’s last message; she’s completely against including Atlas. You’ve worked so hard on that, and… And I haven’t had time for a run in over a week, one of my favorite earrings is missing, and I’m realizing right now that I forgot to buy shampoo yesterday.” Everything was said with the same flat tone with her eyes shut. “I just need a minute.”

Ozpin watched her, silhouetted against the sunset. She meant exactly that: in one minute she would stand up straight, brush off her skirt, and move forward. There was such unwavering dedication in her heart.

It was a strange sensation, standing and walking over to her. Half his mind continued a familiar mantra of distance and danger and selfishness. The other half continued walking. Whether she didn’t hear or didn’t react to his nearing steps, he never asked.

When he was close enough for her to hear his heartbeat, Glynda opened her eyes. It was an unfamiliar stare, unchallenging, unquestioning. Light as a whisper, he traced his fingers from her cheek to jaw and tilted her face ever so slightly upwards. Her eyes closed as he rested a soft kiss against her lips. Her lips parted, not quite returning the kiss, and he leaned in, nearly deepening it.

Her mind fired off a dozen questions, and she stood still, not quite believing her situation. By nature, she was careful, calculating. Already, she thought of all the ways this could have been a mistake. She felt Ozpin smile against her lips and circle his free hand around her back. At that, she opened her mouth and traced her hands along his chest. One hand slid up his neck and into his hair, and he moaned and pulled her tighter, and

The words “Access Requested” flashed in green in time with an automated chime.

They parted with reluctant urgency. Ozpin took a few steps towards the door, and Glynda remained a careful two paces behind him. Unfortunately, she thought, it wasn’t enough of a kiss to leave her breathless or disheveled. Nevertheless, she tucked a nervous strand of hair behind her ear.

When Ozpin called, “Come in,” Qrow trotted to the corner where Glynda had thrown his flask. Giving it a slight shake, he chimed, “Can’t forget that.”

She didn’t look at him but could feel his eyes on her.

“You kids have fun,” he waved and was gone.  

Looking nowhere, Glynda heard her watch tick four times before snapping out of her mental fog. “I should go.”

She walked briskly to the door, and he stood in her path.

“Glynda…”

“It’s getting late.”

Pointedly, he examined the clock above them.

“It’s getting late in Mistral.”

He gave a regretful smile and stepped aside. In the elevator, Glynda paused and held the door open. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Of course.”

As the doors closed, she leaned heavily against the wall and forced herself to think of the dozens of tasks ahead of her that evening. She needed to get the first-years ready for their upcoming exam. One second-year team was still missing a member. She was dangerously low on shampoo. Glynda listed off each item as she walked back to her flat, thinking of how to spend the night as efficiently as possible. She needed to stay busy; she wouldn’t allow her mind to wander. She planned to stay awake as long as she was able, working to the point of exhaustion. Instead, she collapsed onto her bed, turned once, and fell asleep.

 

For over a week, their routine was unchanged. They met at 7:00, shared coffee, walked the grounds, managed the administration and politics of Beacon. In the evening, she’d arrive at his office, mentally exhausted, and he poured coffee or tea as they discussed updates from Qrow or another headmaster or the maidens themselves.

The sun was in its final stage of setting, and Glynda sat on the edge of Ozpin’s desk, lighting swinging one leg. He wondered if she knew how much she noticeably relaxed on non-school days.

“Asher still isn’t budging on Atlas.”

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked from across the room as he poured two mugs of tea.

“I’m extrapolating the latest report from our eyes at Haven.”

From a cabinet near the kettle, Ozpin took a bottle filled with auburn liquid. “Anything extra in your tea?” he offered.

“Obviously,” her eyes hadn’t left her scroll since she sat down. “Oh! Here’s a message from Qrow.”

“And?”

“It’s visual.” With a lazy wave of her hand, her scroll floated over to Ozpin.

“It’s that hat… On a…” Ozpin peered at the screen over his glasses.

“Oh, here,” Glynda flipped the scroll.

Ozpin’s eyes widened. “Oh, my.”

“I can’t believe she let him take that picture.” The scroll glided back to its owner.

Ozpin picked up the mugs and crossed the room towards her. “Is he really using our secure channel for…”

“No, these he sends to my personal account. It’s one a day, him and the hat. The first one was a couple of hens pecking at the straw. He captioned it, ‘chick magnet.’ He has all the wit and maturity of a toddler.”

Ozpin chuckled and passed Glynda her tea. He put a stride’s worth of distance between them before reclining against the desk. He sipped at his tea until it was half gone.

“Should we talk?”

Glynda caught his eye for a beat before returning her gaze to her scroll. After a few taps and clicks, she set it aside and took a sip of tea. “We can talk.”

His head tilted a bit to one side as he searched for words. “Well…”

“You kissed me.”

“True.”

She had never seen him nervous or embarrassed and couldn’t repress a smirk. It was endearing; it made him more human. After a minute, her smile faltered. “And now, you want to apologize, and we’ll clear up this misunderstanding, and we’ll go about our lives. Which is a fair stance,” she offered. “We’re both adults,” she half rolled her eyes. “You won’t hurt my feelings.”

A few seconds of silence passed, and she gently added, “Nothing has to change.”

Ozpin sipped his tea and didn’t look directly at her. “I can’t risk putting you in an unfair or… dangerous position.”

“The Vale Council is watching us like a hawk,” she agreed.

He gave a quick nod. “That, too.” They’d leap at any opportunity to launch an investigation and gain control over Beacon. That was a very real threat, but it wasn’t what he’d been considering. Glynda must have read this on his face but made no mention.

“While all of that is true…” His voice trailed off for a moment. “I’ve never had to make a decision like this.”

For some reason, this surprised her. “Really?”

He nodded and gave her a small smile. “I’ve known you for years, and I value your trust and insight more than anyone’s. You’re my closest friend.” She felt a slight blush; he’d never said the last piece.

Ozpin wasn’t quite sure how to articulate his thoughts. Their closeness wasn’t in jeopardy. He would always have her friendship, and he would always have her at his side. Of that, he was certain. Working with him came with certain risks, and there was an innate danger from being one of the five living people charged with protecting the world. But if anyone found out, if Salem found out, about his feelings for her it would be like painting a target on her back.

He couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t risk her.

Far from the first time, he felt she could look into his eyes and see his thoughts. Setting down her tea, Glynda stood and reached him in two steps.  

“Thank you for looking out for me. But the fact is that what we do is dangerous, and even that doesn’t hold a candle to…” Glynda paused, the name died on her lips. “To people from your past, but I don’t let fear dictate my life.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.

“I know it’s dangerous to be closer to you, but it’s also where I’m safest.”

“How ironic.”

“That’s not irony.”

“Of course it’s not.”

Ozpin watched her eyes look up towards the ceiling as a studious expression covered her face. “Irony would be if—”

He grinned and closed the few inches between them. She returned the smile and leaned into the kiss as the thought drifted away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, hi, guys! I know it's been about a month since I last posted, but as I explained to my Beautiful beta, I've hardly been home the past six weeks. Wedding plans, college graduations, all sorts of big kid stuff. It's all really exciting, but hopping around the country hasn't left me much time to work on this piece of trash fic. Anyway, thanks for your patience! I prefer posting longer chapters, but I may try shorter chapters with fewer updates? I'm not sure. We'll see how the wind blows. Thanks for sticking with me. You're the cat's pajamas, man.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to khayr for beta reading and helping me with the hurdles! And thank you all for your patience with me and my adult life.

**Present Day**

 

Initiation was always the longest and most exhausting day of the school year. For the sake of confidentiality all first years- hundreds of them- needed all be evaluated on the same day, having no contact with students who had completed their examination.

There were two sign-up boards with identical schedules. Sixteen students could sign up on each board for one of the listed ninety-minute intervals. Students who failed to complete their mission in that time were not assigned a team. This year, each board had eleven time slots, beginning at 5:00 that morning. Professors Port and Oobleck would take half of the students to the south side of the Emerald Forest, while Glynda and Ozpin took the other half to the north.

The only difference between the pairs was that Port and Oobleck were free to leave at the end of their sixteen-and-a-half-hour day. Glynda and Ozpin would then return to Beacon Tower and evaluate each student and assign teams. Without fail, they were awake for at least twenty-four hours.

It was the one day Glynda welcomed Ozpin’s coffee addiction.

As the last group returned to the cliff’s edge, both had long since lost the energy for encouraging parting words. Glynda rubbed her eyes, strained from staring at her scroll. As the students marched back towards the school, Ozpin rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t,” she cautioned.

He lowered his hand down her back, and she took a step away.

“I’m serious. The second I relax I’ll fall asleep, and nothing will get done at all tonight. So don’t.” Her voice softened slightly as she added, “But thank you.”

Her scroll chimed. “That’ll be Peter with their data.”

“To the tower, then?”

The walk was brisk and lengthy but a welcome change from the pace of the day. Movement helped them catch a second wind. When they arrived at his office, Ozpin sat back in this chair with a sigh while Glynda began the first round of coffee. Her heels clicked as she reached the desk and passed him a mug. She set her scroll on the glass and opened the evaluation files. With a few keystrokes they were projected across the room and sorted into partners.

“We’re getting too old for this,” she sighed.

Ozpin reached for the scroll and began typing commands. The partnered students moved across the screen, pairing with another set. Everyone was neatly grouped into fours.

“We really are.”

Glynda’s eyes flashed between the organized teams and Ozpin.

“What did you do?”  

“Clearly, not a thing.”

Glynda walked to one of the groups at random and skimmed the files of each student. “You used the relics…” she threw a look over her shoulder. “You should have told me.”

“And miss this incredulity?”

“I’ll admit to being impressed once we sort the leaders.”

By and large this was the simplest aspect of team assignments. In nearly all instances, they agreed on who should represent each group. Glynda walked back towards Ozpin and sat on the armrest of his chair. He wrapped his arm around her waist, a motion so natural neither noticed it.

“Where are they…” Glynda whispered as she sifted through the files on screen. “Ah, here’s your girl.” She tapped the scroll.

“Ruby Rose?”

“Mhm. She’s the obvious choice.”

“Is she?”

Glynda crossed her arms and turned to face him. “Are you really going to argue because I’m not arguing with you on this?”

“I’m just surprised. You’ve seen better than anyone how reckless she can be.”

“True, but recklessness implies she takes initiative, which we’ve seen again and again with her. She’s young, she needs training.” Glynda noticeably rolled her eyes. “Heaven knows she needs training. But all the skills she lacks are ones we can teach her. She’s inspiring, decisive, and honest. And… she has your vote of confidence. That means more than anything.”

“Thank you.”

He reached for her scroll, confirmed the assignment of team RWBY, and flipped to the next team he wanted to discuss.

“How do you feel about Jaune Arc?” he asked.

“I don’t,” she answered flatly.

Ozpin laughed, but she pressed on, “I’m serious. He struggled more than any of his prospective classmates during initiation. If not for Miss Nikos he would have died during the landing.”

“They need each other. That’s why they’re partners.”

“I’d hardly consider their relationship one of her needing him.”

“They complement one another well.”

“Nikos would have fared just fine without this newfound obligation.”

“Would she have? We’d have one student dead and another without a partner. It’s true, with respect to combat he has little to no standing.”

She shot him a look, and he amended, “No standing whatsoever. But your faith in Miss Nikos must necessitate some compassion for Mr. Arc.”

“Even if it did, compassion is no justification for a leadership assignment.”

Ozpin opened the available footage of Jaune and Pyrrha, supplemented with their comrades as the videos progressed. “Look at them, one coming from a position of strength, the other from one of weakness. Look at the hope he inspires in her,” Ozpin laughed. “Against all better judgement, she followed this boy into a cave with a Deathcrawler.”

“You’re hardly selling your opinion.”

“What I’m saying is that… she needs to step back and, not allow herself to be led, but to discover a strength in herself that comes with supporting another. And he needs the chance to grow, despite whatever past he comes from.”

There was a slight pink in her cheeks, and she felt very aware of his fingers trailing the length from her knee to her skirt.

“You’re taking this too personally,” she warned.

“You know I wouldn’t suggest him if I didn’t think it was best for them all.”

“Oh, I know.” With a few keystrokes, Anthea’s old transcript appeared beside Jaune’s.

His sudden discomposure brought her a satisfied smirk. He cleared his throat and admitted, “I should have expected that.”

“You should have.”

She swiped Arc’s group to the end of the queue. “We’ll come back to it. I see your point, I really do, but I need to think it over. Let’s aim to finish the rest and settle on this by one o’clock.”

“Alright,” he agreed, and with unprecedented speed they made their way through the first year groups. Glynda felt they must be nearing the end of the list when four boys were displayed before her.

“I remember them,” she groaned. “I’ve never seen a more cock-sure batch of children in my life, and I’ve met Qrow’s team.”

Ozpin laughed, “He’d slap you for that.”

“He’d try,” she corrected. “I swear, are these our only options?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She shook her head and scanned through the team’s footage. “Well, it seems this one’s our leader, seeing as the other three mindlessly followed him.”

With a few clicks, video loops of Cardin Winchester appeared on screen.

“That is the most ostentatious set of armor I have ever seen.”

Ozpin shrugged and grimaced in response.

“Must we assign them a team?”

“All four passed our entrance exams, and they cleared the forest before the other teams. You can’t dismiss them based on personality and clothing choice.”

“It’s my school, and I should be able to reject them on whatever principle I please.”

He glanced up at her and grinned. “Yours?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, sipping her coffee.

“Alright,” he agreed. “You’ll be spending a lot more time with James at the monthly headmasters’ conferences.”

She sighed. “Monthly?”

“So, which is the lesser of two evils, potential Headmistress Goodwitch?”

Glynda was quiet for a beat. “Keep the academy. Cardin can be a damn team leader.”

“That might be the most difficult decision you need to make all night.”

“Hopefully.”

 The decision for team CRDL was finalized, and Ozpin brought Jaune’s group back on screen. “So this should be very simple by comparison.”

Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but smile as she stood and walked across the room to refill her drink. “Fine,” she called back to him. “Make him the headmaster for all I care. Your golden boy is going to fail my class, but if you can live with that being your leader…”

She heard a faint click and a chime. “I can live with that,” he answered as he stood and stretched his legs.

“We might be finished with team assignments before the other academies. What a novel concept.”

“I doubt that,” he countered. “James sorts them by an algorithm now, and Atlas shared it with Haven. They’ve been using it for years.”

“He does what?” she half-shouted.

Ozpin nodded.

“Doesn’t he care that these are… You know what, no, not right now. I’m not going to do this,” she shook her head sharply. “But what about Mistral?”

“She’s still sorting, I’m sure. I don’t doubt she’d rather have them electronically organized, but she distrusts any product of the Atlesian military.”

“That I did know,” she walked back towards him. “Does Asher do the assignments alone?”

“As far as I know, why?”

She smiled, wrapped an arm around his back, and kissed his cheek. “It’s my school.”

 

There was always an element of chaos associated with the first day of class, and it wasn’t unusual for Ozpin to not see her until the morning of the second day. Day one was full of individualized evaluations and introductory tours that went well into the evening. Usually twenty or so students would find her at the end of the day, full of some combination of apprehension and enthusiasm. The analyses for each student and team took hours, and she typically sent a quick message around midnight that she’d stay in her own quarters that night. Around two or three she’d be finished, and she knew she’d be too exhausted to walk across campus to the tower.

After four hours of sleep and a cup of tea, she felt reasonably awake. She pinned her hair as she walked out the door and checked her messages as she crossed the lawn to the clock tower. The sun was already brilliant and bright, but the air was frosty. It was perfect.

As she reached the tower, the elevator door opened revealing a semi-awake Ozpin.

“Perfect timing,” she noted with feigned surprise.

He gave her a small smile before giving her a quick kiss.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“A bit.” He held her hand and sipped his coffee as they began to walk their usual path. “What’s this year’s first day tale?” he inquired.

Glynda gave an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, dear.”

“Luckily, it was my last class of the day. I was showing everyone their lockers, and one boy shoved another into a locker and launched it off campus.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“There’s always one, I suppose.”

“Is there?”

He laughed and took another drink. “What’s his name?”

“Cardin Winchester.”

Ozpin nodded slowly. “And how did you react to this?”

She answered with a severe side-eyed glance, and he laughed again. “Unfavorably, I take it,” he added.

“We shared a few words, and I don’t foresee him being a disturbance in my class again. He’s also responsible for maintaining the locker room for the spring semester.”

Ozpin nearly pitied the boy. It was ill-advised to pull such a stunt in front of a teacher, and Cardin had made the worst possible decision. To call Glynda stern or intimidating would be an understatement. With nothing more than a speaking voice, she could silence a room containing hundreds. Someone like Port may be more forgiving of eighteen-year-old nonsense. Not her.

“That last name sounds a bit familiar,” he noted.

“His father is some sort of religious figurehead. I forget the details.” She waved her free hand dismissively. “But he’s mistaken if he thinks a name will grant him leniency.”

“On that note, Peter and I both had chats with half of team RWBY.”

“Which half?”

“The first one.”

He watched her expression turn from questioning to exasperated in seconds and grinned at the effect.

“They both had concerns about leadership delegation,” he added.

“Well, we both know you can’t stand your decisions being questioned.”

“Indeed.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Ruby feels as if…”

“RWBY the team, or Ruby the girl?”

“The girl.”

“We should have thought that one through. The next four years with them will drive me mad.”

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

“Anyway…”

“Anyway,” he shrugged. “I told her it’s only been one day, and that I genuinely believe in her. I’m not sure what Peter discussed with Weiss, but I hope the girls will be able to talk everything over tonight.”

Glynda squeezed his hand. “It was sweet of you to talk with her.”

“And it was sweet of you not to rain down hell on Cardin in front of his classmates.”

A few quiet moments passed, and Glynda asked, “It’s nearly nine, should we turn back?”

“In a minute.”

Glynda took a deep breath and smelled the rose bushes in the courtyard. The air was beginning to warm, which was why she preferred their walks to be early. A dozen yards away, she saw what must be teams RWBY and JNPR running wildly to class. For the second day in a row. Glynda rolled her eyes.

“You might suggest to your favorite leaders to invest in an alarm clock.”

When he didn’t answer, she turned to face him and saw him staring after the groups. She could feel him thinking.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Yes…” his voice was quiet and slow. “But let me think on it a bit more.”

“Alright, well, I need to make my way over to the arena for my ten o’clock class. Do you want to gaze into space or come with me?”

He smiled and they fell into step.

 

As Glynda walked into the office a week later, she heard Ozpin tapping a pen against the glass desk. It was a nervous habit that drove her crazy. He held his face in his hand as he sat in the chair, which was never a good sign. Neither said a word as she poured two cups of coffee and walked over to him. With a bit more force than was strictly necessary she flicked her finger and the pen soared across the room. He let out a half-annoyed sigh as his eyes settled on her.

“Hello,” she greeted.

“Hello.”

It crossed her mind that she didn’t mind the pens and clicks and whatever else he did. She hated that he let things mull about in his head for days or weeks before talking to her. She hated seeing him stressed and tense and being unable to help. But for now she set that aside.

With half a wave, she turned him towards her. She leaned over him and held his face gently before giving him a light kiss. She was relieved when he kissed her back and ran his hands down her sides to rest on her waist. For the past few days he had been increasingly pensive and distant, which likely meant he was deliberating a critical decision for the maidens or their guardians. Relatively speaking, she made her peace with this long ago. It was his responsibility to apply all his knowledge and experience before presenting her with these global outcomes.

She smiled and sighed contently. As she stood, he held onto one of her hands and kissed it softly.

“Ready to talk?” she asked, leaning against the desk and taking a sip of coffee.

“I am, but we’ll need to call Qrow as well. I need to talk with you both.”

That was unusual, but Glynda tapped Qrow’s name and set her scroll on the desk. After a few rings, he answered, “Yes, mom, I’ve been eating my vegetables and changing my socks every day.”

She rolled her eyes and tapped the screen once more, opening up a video link.

“Good evening, professors, I trust today is treating you well?”

“Are you in a secure location?” asked Ozpin.

“In a manner of speaking.” He angled the camera, so they could see his surroundings. “I mean, I’m fifty feet up in a tree, so… yes and no.”

“I have a candidate,” Ozpin stated without preamble.

Qrow’s face came back into view. “Alright, so that’s the tone we’re going for.”

“It’s Pyrrha Nikos.”

All three were silent.

“Wait, what the – the marshmallow puffs girl? The plastic action figure?” Qrow sputtered.

There wasn’t an answer.

“You’re screwing with me. Are you serious? Is he joking right now?”

Standing next to him, Glynda looked down and examined Ozpin’s face. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“No, he isn’t.”

“Did you know about this?” Qrow demanded.

“No.”

“He didn’t run this by you first –”

“No.”

“And then pretend to ask for my input—”

“No.”

“But really you two already –”

“No, Branwen,” she snapped, unable and unwilling to conceal her irritation. “No. This is the first I’m hearing of this.”

After a few seconds, Ozpin clarified, “This is hardly any sort of decision. I wanted you to both know immediately, and I wanted your perspectives.”

“Didn’t want the family thinking dad plays favorites?”

“Qrow,” they sighed in unison.

“Alright, alright, alright.” Qrow rested his head in his free hand and rubbed at his temples. For a minute, he was silent. Glynda noticed that with his wind-blown hair and posture, he could have been an old photograph of the man beside her.

“Alright,” he said again after a minute. “Look, Oz, I give you two a hard time. It’s part of my charm. Right, Glynda?”

“That’s why we keep you around.”

“Thank you. But in all honesty, this makes me nervous.”

“Go on,” Ozpin encouraged.

“We’re not the first kids in this clubhouse, and we won’t be the last. We’re following a centuries-old tradition of keeping these guardians and their world safe. And that works because we’re quiet. No one knows any of us exist, and that’s why this planet keeps spinning. Taking a shadow operation and putting it into the hands of the kingdoms’ star athlete is at least reckless and at most potentially devastating.”

“Agreed,” Glynda quietly affirmed.

Qrow gave her a quick nod of thanks.

“There are no secrets with a figurehead like her, Oz… You know, she’s probably a great kid.”

“Here,” Glynda reached over and tapped a series of commands onto her scroll. “This is the footage of her from the Emerald Forest.”

“I got it. Let me take a look.”

“Kid’s not bad,” Qrow admitted after a minute, eyes flickering across the recordings. “But she should have known better than to follow Blondie into that cave.”

They both shrugged in agreement.

“Seriously, that entire battle was completely avoidable. Totally unnecessary.”

Glynda and Ozpin glanced at each other and then back to Qrow.

“Can’t help but take at least partial credit for that ass-kicking my girls gave out there,” his eyes flickered back up to them as he closed the video feed. “Anything else, or are you guys just going to do that synchronized judgement thing?”

“I’ll keep an eye on Pyrrha,” suggested Glynda. She turned slightly to face Ozpin. “Give me a few weeks at least. I don’t doubt your instinct, but I want to know her before we make this decision. And we need to be absolutely certain before we suggest anything to _the general_.”

Qrow laughed at the inflection. “Yeah, that’s gonna need to be more of a statement than a suggestion. He only operates with direct orders.”

“True,” she agreed.

“Unless Glynda wanted to—”

“Qrow.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Are we done?” Glynda snapped.

“Hey, before you go, Ruby told me she made leader, and that she’s with her sister.”

“Both are correct,” Ozpin verified.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled broadly. “I’m glad they’re together; it’ll be good for them both. Keep me updated, will you? I’m reasonably fond of those two.”

“Of course,” Ozpin agreed with a smile.

“Alright, well, keep me posted on everything. I’m about to take care of some recon.”

“Good luck.”

“Goodnight. Take care, Qrow.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Glyn.” With that, the connection ended, and the screen went blank.

Glynda sighed and sat on the chair’s armrest. “That boy…”

“He’s older than you.”

“Let’s not think about that.” They were quiet for a moment before she mentioned, “You’re absolutely certain about Pyrrha?”

“I am.”

“You don’t know her at all.”

“No, but I have faith.”

Slowly, she added, “I’ll let you know what I learn in the next few months.”

“You’re less than thrilled.”

“You know why.”

Very slightly, he tightened his arm around her, and Glynda spun to sit in lap. She leaned against him and buried her face in his scarf. This had been going on too long for her to feel anything more than exhaustion. After years of being kept comatose and stable by Atlas’s most advanced technology, Amber’s body was quickly fading. They needed to find a host for her powers, or there could be untold damage across the kingdoms. She hadn’t shown brain activity in almost three years. She was long gone. Even so, this final admission of defeat was weighing heavily on those dedicated to protecting her.

With his lips against her hair and arms around her, Ozpin felt himself drifting off. Glynda yawned and stood slowly.

“It’s been a day.”

Drowsily, he nodded and rose out of the chair.

“Let’s get some sleep.”

“Let’s.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was posted before midnight, and no one can say otherwise. That means I didn't go a full month without an update. Ha! 
> 
> For real, I really appreciate all of you for sticking with this and reading my foolishness. To recap the month of May: I was the maid of honor at my best friend's wedding, my sister graduated high school, and I had con things. Lots of traveling, lots of sewing, lots of other being-an-adult things I won't bore you with. But my life is calming down for the next two-ish weeks, so hopefully I'll get out chapter five quickly! Thoughts, comments, and concerns can be directed here, or you can message me on the tumblr.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thanks to khayr, who is literally the best.

**Five Years Ago**

 

Watching her spar one-on-one against a classmate, Glynda couldn’t have been more thrilled with Anthea’s progress. It was her final semester, and she had total mastery over her semblance and powers.

Even after she began training with Glynda there were several arduous months before she was able to separate her natural and new abilities. Any attempts to create a breeze produced gale-force winds. Once in a fit of anger she engulfed several acres of the Emerald Forest in flames. Her training was painstakingly slow, like learning to walk again. With a fond tiredness, Glynda remembered bending more than a few rules in order to chaperone Anthea’s team during their first-year mission. Less fondly, she remembered how necessary her presence had been. 

Three years later, an entirely different woman stood before her. Anthea was a beam of confidence and compassion. She was a patient and resourceful leader who always parted with an encouraging word. At this phase in her match, it was obvious she’d be the victor, but she wouldn’t boast or jeer as more than a few fourth-years were prone to do. Every one of her successes was the result of years of dedication and perseverance. Now, she was humble in victory. She was warm and bright. She was Summer, Glynda thought with a smile.

Anthea spun through the air. Her fighting style was likely the most evasive Glynda had ever seen which was highly amusing to watch given how it contrasted her personality. Partially due to her supernatural gifts, use of her semblance required very little energy. She was nearly impossible to strike as she glided across the arena. As a teammate, she drew enemy fire, exhausting her opponent while the others struck from behind. On her own, it was a much longer process. Like her fellow maidens but unlike her classmates, she didn’t use a conventional weapon. Glynda always respected that choice. Having unimaginable power should be sufficient without a gun or a sword. Or a gun-sword, she thought with a smirk. 

As she watched the girl soar twenty feet in the air, Glynda felt a rush of unease. She tried to shake the feeling but kept her eyes on Anthea. 

The girl’s eyes went wide, her arms shook, and she lost the force of the air keeping her afloat. There was a collective gasp as Anthea fell like a doll. 

Immediately, Glynda reached out a hand and ran to the arena floor. After years of training and teaching, catching her from that height was all too easy. Still, her heart raced as she lowered her carefully to the ground. On the stone floor, Anthea was visibly shaking as she sat on her knees. 

“Miss Blum?” she asked coolly, hoping to get her attention. There was no response. She heard several heaving coughs and before Anthea was sick on the floor.

Glynda rushed to her side. “Annie? Annie, honey, it’s alright. I’m going to help you up, ok?” Anthea nodded weakly, and Glynda set one hand on her back and another on her shoulder. She used her semblance to stand her upright before the pallid, shaking girl collapsed against her. 

A glance at her watch told her class change was in three minutes. “You’re all dismissed,” she called to the room. There was the familiar sound of dozens of students hurrying out the door. Turning to Anthea’s sparring partner, she asked, “Do you know what she has next?”

“Yeah, we have history together,” he answered. “Is she –?”

“She’ll be fine. Tell Professor Oobleck I took her to the infirmary.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He hesitated for just a moment before following the rest of the class. 

As the footsteps faded, Anthea whispered, “I can’t breathe.”

All Glynda knew about medicine was to keep blood in a body. Everything else was completely beyond her knowledge. From holding Anthea she felt that her breath was fast and shallow, and her heart rate was abnormally fast. “I’m going to get you to the infirmary, ok? We’re going to call a nurse, and someone’s going to get you.”

“Ok.”

“Can you tell me what’s hurting? Do you know what’s wrong?” she asked as softly as possible.

“I’m scared.” Anthea choked on a sob before mustering, “I feel like… I’m dying.”

 

Legally, she wasn’t Anthea’s guardian. The nurse monitoring her couldn’t comment on her condition beyond the fact that she was stable, safe, and her vitals were returning to normal. He promised to have Anthea call once she woke from her sedative-induced sleep. Unable to do anything else, she left the infirmary. As she stepped onto the lawn, Ozpin appeared at her side so suddenly that she jumped away and reached for her weapon. 

“Damn it, Oz!” she shouted at the same time he rushed, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

She took a deep breath to clear her head. Ozpin glanced at the building behind them and brushed his fingers down her arm. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine; I’m only here because Anthea –”

His eyes went wide. “What happened to her?”

“It looks like a severe panic attack, but she’ll be alright. She’s ok.” Glynda glanced to be sure they were alone before changing her tone. “Why? What’s wrong?”

There was an uncharacteristic strain in his voice when he answered, “It’s Fern.”

“Oh, no…” She closed the distance between then and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. 

The gesture almost broke him. Very, very early in his history with the maidens he built a mental barrier to keep them at bay. They were bright, beautiful, and fleeting, like a flower in a vase. Caring for them was exhausting. He could never keep them safe. Despite his attempted detachment, he cared for every maiden and felt a deep sense of loss when the next one arose. And he genuinely couldn’t remember the last time someone reached out to comfort him during the death of a friend.

He held her tightly and breathed, “Thank you,” into her hair. 

After several quiet minutes she took a step back and offered a fleeting, sympathetic smile. She didn’t waste time on the usual questions. No, there was nothing she could do. No, he wasn’t fine, but he would be. She gave him a long, lingering kiss followed by a brief parting one, and that was that. Right now it was time to move forward. 

“What do we do now?” 

“Now, we wait,” he answered simply. 

“And if I needed an actual response to that question, what might it be?” He nearly smiled.

“I spoke with the others just before I found you. The winter maiden said she… felt Fall leave. They’re all connected somehow; it’s how we learn of their passing so quickly.”

Glynda nodded sympathetically. “That explains Anthea’s attack.”

“Qrow should be leaving from Signal right around now. He’ll find Amber and know if she needs to be brought here or one of the other academies.”

Her eyes were wide. “Qrow?”

“Yes, he’s highly knowledgeable and has the ability to manage her if things get out of hand.”

“Maybe,” she drew out the middle syllable and nodded slowly, “but do you think he has the bedside manner for this conversation?”

“I think that...” he began before he was cut off by a chiming sound from Glynda’s scroll. 

When she glanced at the screen she murmured, “Speak of the devil,” and answered with, “We were just talking about you.”

“All good things, I’m sure,” said the voice on the other line. “Hey, what are you up to tonight?”

She shook her head in disbelief and snapped, “What?”

“I was kind of hoping you’d feel up for a roadtrip. We could make a stop by Remnant’s biggest rocking chair and eat at sketchy diners. Sound fun?”

“You’re awfully chipper, given the circumstances.”

“My sunny disposition all I’ve got. That and my video game skills,” his tone changed as he added, “Seriously, though, I’d prefer if you came with me to visit Amber.”

“I’d prefer that as well.”

“Figured as much. I should be at the Beacon landing pad in about an hour. See you then.”

When the call ended she expanded her scroll and began typing while she walked along the paved path to her quarters. Ozpin fell into step beside her.

“That clears my classes for the next two days.”

“It’s fortunate that request was approved so quickly.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before redirecting her attention to the screen, hitting ‘send,’ and returning the device to its clip. A small group of students walked towards them along the path. They were all chatting as one read through his scroll, but she lowered her voice for good measure.

“Do you think you can manage without me?”

“I’ve been known to do so before.”

“If there’s any change with Anthea—”

She was cut off by a loud, “Oh, fuck yeah! No combat training ‘til Monday!” 

“Let’s hope to see that same energy first thing Monday morning, Mr. Rhee,” she reprimanded.

Rhee was paralyzed, and his five companions wore varying expressions of trepidation. 

“Um, good evening, professors…” he hazarded.

“But perhaps with a bit more focus.” Ozpin’s eyes glanced between Glynda’s stern expression and crossed arms to the pod of first-years and couldn’t entirely suppress a grin. Giving a slight sideways nod, he suggested, “Why don’t you run along before she adds on anything else.”

There was a scattering of, “yes, sir,” and “thank you,” and “sorry,” as they scattered like puppies. 

Glynda watched them dash across the lawn until they were safely out of hearing range. 

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Nothing. Anyway, Anthea.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” he assured her. 

“Thank you. Well, since I’m disappearing for a few days, it might look better if I’m not seen with you right now. No one needs to know that you know where I’m going.”

He reached for her hand and traced circles with his thumb. “Be safe.”

“Why start now?”

His smile was faint and half-hearted as he felt her hand leave his and she walked away.

 

The airship was small and nondescript, and no one gave it a second glance during its brief turnaround on the school’s landing pad. It looked like it was made for small, short-distance deliveries, but she kept all concerns about its ability to make the journey to herself. There must have been a pilot, but she never saw one.  

When the craft gave a violent shake, Qrow seemed not to notice. To take her mind off her surroundings, she asked, “Where exactly is our rendezvous point?”

“In the village near her place. It’s an inn.” 

Glynda let out a huff of laughter. “An inn?” she repeated.

“Yeah, an inn.”

“What year do you think this is?”

“Hey, shut the hell up. We can’t all live the champagne and caviar huntsman life.”

She bit back a retort and refused to rise to the bait. “And how far away from the landing site is this… inn?”

“About ten minutes as the crow flies,” he said sardonically. When she kept staring at him, he shrugged and guessed, “Can’t be more than two miles. Terrain’s pretty easy, but maybe not in a skirt. The pants were a good call.”

“Glad you approve. It was between this and my old prom dress.”

“You know, I had to make that same decision this morning.” Qrow checked the map on his scroll. “We’re getting close.”

“How long before we land?”

“Right, so, about that…” He punched a red, flashing button, and the bay door opened with a metallic screech. The force of the rushing air slammed her into the back wall of the ship, knocking the air out of her lungs. She shouted something at Qrow, and his only response was to cup a hand to his ear and shrug. 

Fighting against the wind, she made her way to his side by the door. He held out a hand in a stopping motion when she approached. Peering out, he began a silent countdown on his fingers. She grabbed his sleeve, gestured to herself, and shrugged widely. Smirking, he shouted, “You’ll think of something,” and stepped leisurely off the ledge. 

Scowling, she followed.

There was nothing nearby to use as leverage, no buildings or sufficiently high trees. Without time to think of an alternative, she extended her arm and created a glowing purple disk. She made contact on the surface of less than a second before jumping and creating a new one. She followed the luminescent trail all the way to the ground. Her heels slammed into the earth, and she took a steadying breath. She turned to face the airship and watched it pass across the sky. 

She heard a flutter several feet above her and watched a red-eyed bird glide down beside her.

“Jackass,” she growled. “You could have given me any warning at all.”

In a flash, he resumed his human appearance. “Think of it as a learning experience. Now you know how all your kids feel when you shove them off a fucking cliff on the first day of school.”

“Not from that altitude!”

“You’re fine, aren’t you?” he grumbled as he unscrewed the lid from his flask. “I forgot you can do that,” he traced a circle with a finger, “you know, that thing.”

“Everyone has a party trick.”

He took on an uncharastically thoughtful expression before shaking it away. “Ready to go?”

“After you,” she offered. After a few minutes of walking she asked, “Can you see at all?”

“Right now, nope. But whenever I’m flying… also no.”

“How encouraging.”

“Relax, we’re not far out.”

Even in the pitch blackness, it was an easy walk. The area was filled with lush grass and rolling hills. There were some light forests visible off in the distance, but weren’t any roots or rocks to trip over. The area was predominantly farmland, and the aroma of wildflowers permeated the air. For a while, the only sounds were crunching grass and chirping crickets. Nearer to the town, Glynda heard a twig snap and quick retreating footsteps and stopped in her tracks.

Qrow set a hand on her back. “Keep walking,” he mumbled.

She gave him a quick glance.

“As much as I enjoy your company, I didn’t bring you along for a mid-week vacation,” he said in a low voice.

“Do you know who it is?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet.

He shook his head.

“Qrow…”

“Let’s talk when we get there.”

Within minutes, they were on a cobblestone path. The village was like nothing she had ever seen, and Glynda couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s like something out of a fairy tale.”

“Well, I know how you love those.”

“Do you have to ruin the moment?”

“Always.”

Wherever they were, it was a small, sleepy region. They passed only a sparse handful of people as they made their way down the pavement. When they reached their destination, Qrow spread his arms dramatically. “Here we are!”

She looked up at the sign and back to her partner. 

“What?” he demanded. “What now?”

“The sign just says ‘inn.’” 

“Well, that’s what it is.”

“It doesn’t even have a name?”

“Doesn’t need one, there’s no other place to crash for miles.”

She sighed and gave him a long look. 

“Tell you what, next time let’s send you out into the middle of fucking nowhere for two years, and then you can whip up an itinerary for when  _ I _ want to visit? Sound good?” He walked through the door and held it open.

It would sound too deliberate to call the place “rustic.” Like the rest of the village, it had likely been thrown together after the war and left unchanged. The only polish on the chairs, tables, and floors came from decades of use. The interior smelled pleasantly of wood-burning stoves and fireplaces. Guests and tabs were recorded in ink on a leger. There couldn’t have been a more stark contrast between this place and the sleek modernity of Beacon.

Scanning the few patrons still awake at this hour, she wished again that Qrow had provided any amount of detail regarding their mission. Even dressed as she was, their was a formality and polish so intrinsic to her nature that it couldn’t be masked. As aware as she was of her disparity to the place, Qrow seemed perfectly in his element. 

As soon as the thought dawned on her, she tensed when he gave a short, sharp whistle to the room. Several pairs of eyes flicked over to him with varying degrees of irritation, but one stayed focused. 

“Hey, Rosa,” he purred. 

“Hey, baby,” her speaking voice carried across the nearly empty room. “Sign yourself in; I’ll be there in a jiff.”

“You got it,” he turned his attention back to Glynda. “Follow the leader, princess.”

They crossed to a desk in the corner of the room, and Qrow flipped through a few pages in a legger. He skimmed the guest list before setting it down. Glynda watched Rosa collect a tower of mugs and plates. She looked to be a head and shoulders shorter than Glynda, but their legs might have been the same length. Rosa winked at Qrow over her shoulder and gave her scandalously short skirt a twirl before retreating to what must have been the kitchen. 

“So, you have a thing for brunettes?” she teased.

“Sometimes,” he returned in her tone, “Don’t be jealous.”

When she appeared through the same door, she was twirling her curls around a finger. Up close, Glynda could see the freckles dusting her tan cheeks, chest, and arms. She brushed past Glynda to throw her arms around Qrow and kiss him gleefully. 

“You haven’t been around to see me in a while,” she whined.

He traced a hand up her leg. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” As she moved in for another kiss, Glynda cleared her throat. Qrow could do what or whomever he pleased, but not in front of her. She was here to have one conversation with one girl and return home as quickly as possible.

Rosa cocked an eyebrow and looked her up and down. “Who’s she?” she asked offhandedly.

“My sister Violet,” he answered smoothly.

Rosa giggled but didn’t take her eyes off Glynda. “I’ll call her Violet if you’d like, but she’s no more your sister than I am.” 

“Oh, a bit more than that,” Glynda countered.

She giggled again. “I like her.” Turning her attention back to man she was draped around, she added in a quiet, teasing voice, “But you’d better have a more convincing cover if someone else asks, Robbie.” She kissed him again, deeply but quickly, and skipped to the desk. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, I’m not running a charity here. One room or two?”

Glynda rolled her eyes at the question, and Rosa laughed. She made a note in her book and took two keys from the rack behind her. She kissed one key before handing it to Qrow and tossed the other to Glynda. 

“You’re some lucky customers. If you’d been here yesterday, I wouldn’t have had room for you. Violet, you’re across the hall from this guy. And, Robbie… call me if you get cold.” 

He gave her a wink before headed upstairs, and Glynda followed. The doors weren’t numbered, but Qrow unlocked the one in the far corner out of habit. Glynda began to unlock the one immediately across from him, but he gestured her inside. To say the least, it was simplistic. A desk, a chair, a rug, a twin-sized bed, a dresser, and a lamp. All was well-worn but well maintained. She sat at the chair while Qrow closed the door and tossed his bag on the dresser. 

“Violet?” she asked.

“Sure, you’re purple sometimes.”

“And Robbie?”

“Yeah, she cutsied that one up a bit. It’s Robin.”

“A fool-proof pseudonym.”

“We live in the age of the CCT, Glyn. If any of these guys wants to know who I am, all they have to do is go online. You give a bullshit name for plausible deniability.” He collapsed on the bed, facing the ceiling. “Wanna sit over here? It’s way more comfortable.”

“I’ll stay over here, thanks.”

“You don’t give Rosa enough credit. She keeps this place spotless.”

“Qrow, I don’t mind or care that you have a girlfriend over here, but we’re here for more than her.”

He sighed loudly. “Glyn, you are one of the smartest people I have ever met, but you can be a real dumbass. Rosa’s the only reason we know the person following us earlier was in town yesterday.”

Glynda’s eyes widened. “We know that?”

“Yup. Rosa doesn’t have a lot of rules, but everyone who walks in here signs her book. She’s seen this person around a few times during the past few years. Their signature was there yesterday.”

“What do they look like?”

“I was so hoping you’d ask,” he said sitting up. “We don’t know.”

“What?”

“No fucking clue.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Another good question.”

Glynda growled in the back of her throat. “I swear, if I could get a straightforward just once in my life—”

“We don’t know what they look like because they always have a drastically different appearance. The first time, it was a pale girl with short, black hair; then a tall red-haired guy; then an old deer Faunus. The list goes on. We don’t have a gender, an age, an ethnicity, not even a species. We don’t know.”

“And how do you know it’s the same person?”

Qrow smiled, “I said you underestimated Rosa. With her semblance she can kind of… read auras.”

“What the hell does that mean?” she asked exasperatedly.

“The way she describes it, she can kind of see them, and I guess they sort of, I don’t know, fluctuate if you’re lying or being honest. I don’t know. That’s the best I can give you.”

“That doesn’t sound real.” 

“Glynda, I turn into a bird sometimes.”

“Fair.”

“Anyway, she didn’t pay attention the first time, but she’s seen this same aura eight or nine times since then, so she started keeping a record for me.”

“And how do you maintain her discretion?”

“I paid to get this place on the grid. Literally. Electricity’s all new. Kitchen’s more of a kitchen. She’s a businesswoman, and I’m an advantageous partner. I get a few other rewards from that. This room’s soundproof, so I know we’re safe to talk here. If a new face comes through town, I hear about it.”

“But you’re sleeping together.”

“When the mood strikes her, but no one’s naïve enough to swap sex for secrets anymore.”

Glynda looked at him skeptically. “Are you sure about that? Have you told her about Amber?”

A flash of genuine anger crossed his face. “I’ve been at this longer than you, princess, and you want to take that card out of the deck.”

She felt ashamed for even asking. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t trust you…”

“I know.”

“It’s just I can’t imagine caring about someone that much and not telling them… anything,” she finished weakly.

“Ok, first off, Rosa and I aren’t some pre-teen romance novel. We’re colleagues, probably even friends, but that’s it,” his voice darkened, “but, um, yeah. It definitely sucks not being able to talk to the people you love about a giant, secret chunk of your life.”

He was quiet for a minute before adding, “Tai’s completely in the dark. I mean, his judgement isn't always there, so there’s a reason for that, but still. Sometimes I just want to, I don’t know, scream in his face? Shake some damn sense into him? And the girls… I just disappear on them all the time. All the time. Birthdays, holidays. And they’ll just never know any of this. Constantly lying to keep the people you love safe, it’s fucking awful.” He glanced at her and shrugged. “You lucked out with that one.”

She smiled faintly.

“Alright, that’s enough sharing. Get out, sis,” he pulled out his scroll, “I have a business meeting to attend to.”

 

The next morning, she was up with the sun. Qrow skipped down the stairs closer to ten o’clock.

“Nice of you to join me.”

“What’s the rush?” he asked with a shrug. “Are those the same pants from yesterday?” 

She tried to rub out a nearly indetectable smudge from yesterday’s landing. 

“Really roughin’ it, aren’t ya?”

“It’s still too early for your bullshit.”

“Is it too early for a little morning stroll?”

“Not at all; let’s go.”

There were no cars in the village. Locals got around on horseback, bike, or foot, and they had only the latter. The walk was long, but the country air and scenery were lovely. Nearing their destination, they agreed that she should approach alone, and Qrow transformed and flew to a familiar perch along the fence. The farm was otherworldly in its serenity. It was more fit for a painting than a residence. A thin stone path led from the gate to the entrance, and she followed the sort walkway. She felt uncharastically nervous as she knocked on the door. She heard a voice call, “I’ll get it, grandma!” and a series of quick steps. The door opened on a smiling face. Glynda had seen her image a dozen times and recognized Amber immediately. Interestingly, she seemed to recognize Glynda as well. 

“Hi,” she greeted, still smiling. “I think… I think I know you? Does that sound crazy?”

Glynda returned the smile. “Not at all.”

 

By and far, Amber took the news better than her grandmother. Even so, she bit her nails and stared at her hands through most of the conversation.

During a particularly long pause, Qrow asked, “Is any of this sinking in, or…?”

“No, yeah, I, um,” Amber cleared her throat. “I get it. I guess I’m just wondering, I mean… what do I… what do I do now?”

“Well, there are a lot of maidens who were already on the track to become huntresses.” Her shoulders tensed, and he added, “And a lot of them live out their lives just as they’d planned.”

“There are definitely advantages to going to one of the academies, though,” Glynda added. As she took her next breath, Amber shook her head.

“No. No way. I’m sorry. Nothing against you guys, but I’m not huntress material.”

Qrow gave her an encouraging smile. “Oh, come on, I’d bet-”

“No. Sorry, no. I can’t… I mean, look around you. Look at me! I have a farm! We raise sheep and cows for fleece and milk. We’re vegetarians. I can’t kill anything! I can’t…” she shuddered. “I can’t live that life.”

“Amber, the Grimm that we fight, they’re not like-”

Amber’s hand fell in her lap and she met Glynda’s eyes. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

Her body went cold.

“Amber, listen,” Qrow began, but she cut him off. 

“I know your answer. I’m asking her.”

Glynda saw him shake his head out of the corner of her eye, and she took a slow breath. “Amber…”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“How do you live with that?”

“That’s just it,” Qrow mumbled. “You live with it.”

“See, I couldn’t,” she paused to look at them. “I couldn’t, and I can’t, and I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” he brushed away the apology. “It’s your life. Seriously, I don’t mean to sound like an asshole adult, but it really is your life. We’re here to keep you safe, not tell you what to do.”

Amber nodded. 

“Here, how about this: let’s meet up tomorrow. You need some time to yourself. Talk this over with your grandma. We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll decide what to do from here. Sound good?”

She nodded again, “Sounds good.”

Their farewell was tense, but once outside Glynda had to note, “You did well with her.”

“I’ve done this a few times,” he shrugged.

“Back to the village?”

“Yeah, about that…” his voice trailed off for a beat, “We’ve got another trip to make. Fern’s place is a little ways off, and there’s something we need to check on.”

“What sort of something?”

“Just a creeping suspicion.”

“Of course,” she sighed.

 

After another lengthy, silent walk they neared a small cottage with an expansive herb garden. 

“She brewed a lot of her own teas. New age stuff,” he explained. “I’m gonna take a look around. Won’t take long.”

“You brought some pretty heavy backup for a stroll around a house.”

“Yeah, well, you never know.” He glanced around lazily. “I’m gonna get a bird’s eye view on the place. Just do your thing if anyone shows up.”

With the exception of a few rabbits and squirrels, nothing came near them. Glynda’s eyes roamed over the area and thought the deep browns and greens suited their owner perfectly. The cottage was decidedly Romantic; it could have been the home of a fairy godmother. The house nearly hummed to her, inviting her to learn more about the woman to whom she was bound but barely knew. How did she live? What books did she read? But nothing good could come from these answers. The seasons had changed. Fern was dead, and Amber was her responsibility now. 

Glynda heard footsteps running across the leaves and grabbed her weapon. When Qrow came into view, she sighed with relief. 

“Let’s go,” he said, already walking down the road.

“Find what you were looking for?”

“Uh huh.” He said nothing else until they arrived at the inn, though it was nearly dark by the time they arrived. He gestured for Glynda to follow him inside and passed her the key at the foot of the stairs . 

“I need to get something from Rosa,” he mumbled and walked off. 

She nodded and headed upstairs. In the room, she collapsed on the chair and longed for a shower. Qrow couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before he returned with an envelope in hand.

“Love letters?”

He pulled out a comb.

“She could make a presentable man out of you yet.”

He breezed past the jab. “A few months ago, our mystery person was a woman with long hair, so Rosa offered to braid it, because, of course, she’s great and seeming folksy and adorable like that.” He reached into his pocket and removed what looked like long threads. “And these are a few hairs I found at Amber and Fern’s places.”

“Qrow… Your dated police work isn’t going to –”

He held them all against the envelope and flipped on the desk light. All strands were a vibrant green.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, check and mate, smartass.”

“We need to tell Ozpin.”

“Yeah, we do. But first we need to tell Amber.”

 

The following afternoon, Glynda sat with her head in her hands. Qrow had steamrolled the conversation and was tactlessly, if honestly, explaining the situation to Amber and her grandmother.

“Point is, whoever this is, they know who you are, and they’ve known for a while.”

Amber’s grandmother glared at him. “Isn’t it your job to keep her safe?”

“Yeah—”

Glynda reached across the table and rested a hand on the tan, calloused one before her. “And that’s exactly what we will continue to do.”

“Don’t let her tone of voice confuse you, she doesn’t know what to do any more than I do. We won’t pull any punches, and we’re gonna keep you alive, but we don’t know what we’re up against. At all. Like, I can’t stress this enough.”

“And I’m not sure why you would,” she said with a pointed look. “What’s important now is that we move forward. Right now, one of the maidens is actually in her final year at Beacon. With me,” she added to the grandmother who squeezed her hand. “I’ve helped her control her powers, and she’s safe. Traditionally, the maidens alternate academy attendance as an additional security measure, but I’m sure we can make an exception.”

“Yeah, but,” Qrow began before being cut off by a small voice.

“But if they know who I am… they’ll just follow me wherever I go.”

“Basically that,” he agreed. 

Amber’s eyes were wide with fear. “No offense, but you two kind of ruined my week.”

Her grandmother released Glynda’s hand and pulled Amber into a tight hug.

“So, now’s the time to ask if you’ve changed your mind on the whole huntress gig.”

Glynda could have slapped him, she took a breath and began in her most calming voice, “Amber…”

“No,” she answered, wiggling free from her grandmother. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. And even if I did, that’s a thousand people I’d be putting in danger. Those schools are always close to a city, too, and that’s just… that’s too many lives at stake for one person.”

Her grandmother smiled at the response. “I’ve kept you safe for sixteen years, and I can do it a while longer.”

“Amber,” Glynda said again, but Qrow spoke over her.

“Well, that’s your call. But what about your powers? Some girls take to it easier than others.”

Amber looked around the room before her eyes settled on a vase full of daffodils. She reached towards them, and they froze solid. Tilting her head slightly, the frost dissipated and the flowers burst into flame. She chilled them quickly before the fire could spread. 

“I think I’ve got it,” she answered.

Qrow turned to Glynda and shrugged. “She thinks she’s got it.”

Short of kidnapping, there was no way for Glynda to win this. With a sigh, she asked, “Do you have a scroll?”

“Yeah, the connection gets spotty if it storms, but I have one.”

“Let me give you my number, in case you need anything at all.”

“Sure, thanks.” She slid the device across the table, and Glynda began typing. 

“Any weapons?” Qrow asked. “Just for self defense?”

“I have my dad’s old staff. I use it with the sheep.”

“Is it dust infused?” Glynda asked without looking up.

“Um, I don’t think so?” Amber pushed her chair back and walked down the hall. When she returned, she held a staff as tall as her, topped with a red crystal. Qrow whistled when he saw it. 

“Check it out, Glyn. Seems up your alley.” She raised her eyebrows and nodded as he continued, “I think daddy dearest might have been holding our on you, kid. You can do some damage with a dust crystal like that.”

Her face broke into a wide, wondrous smile. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. And at that size, that’s gonna pack a punch, and it probably costs more than I make in a year.”

“What is it? What kind of dust?” She was nearly bouncing on her feet.

“What does it feel like?” Glynda asked.

Amber’s expression was hesitant as she looked between the adults and the staff. She ran her fingers along the twisted wood. This household object, one she held and used thousands and thousands of times before, was suddenly powerful and alive. Her eyes and hands glowed, and her grandmother gasped in shock. Glynda felt a tightness in her chest as she watched the childlike wonder on Amber’s face. It hardly seemed fair, a shiney new toy for a lifetime of terror and secrecy.

The glow around her faded, and Amber whispered, “Fire.”

“Well done,” Glynda affirmed with a smile.

Amber’s smile and voice were shy as she gripped the staff tightly. “Thank you.”

“You can thank us ten years down the road, kid.”

“Will do, adult.”

He pointed a chastising finger. “Don’t you start with me.” He turned to Glynda. “If she turns out like you, I’m gonna lose my cool.”

“Lose your cool?” she mocked in a voice only mastered by sixteen-year-old girls.

“Alright, we’re done,” he pushed back his chair and stretched, “Ma’am, I’ve had it with your granddaughter’s sassy mouth.”

Amber giggled again. Following  Qrow’s lead, Glynda stood and was surprised when Amber pulled her into a hug. She felt more than a little awkward returning the gesture. 

“Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” she reminded the girl. 

“Mhm, I will.”

The grandmother called, “Have a safe trip home!” while they walked to the front door and exited the house. When the door shut behind them, Glynda release a heavy breath and felt the tension leave her body.

Qrow laughed, “Did you really get that tense after a hug? Because I’d hate to see you after a—”

“There’s no filter, is there? And, no, it’s not just from a hug, it’s… everything. This whole situation.”

“It’s not ideal,” he agreed, shutting the gate behind them. “Guess I’ll need to schedule more frequent checkins with Fall, but the rest of the gang shouldn't mind.”

“Unless this is a decoy.”

“Unless that. We’ll hash it out later. I don’t want to think about it right now.”

“Agreed.”

The walked quietly for a few minutes before Qrow took on an impish voice and drawled, “So, our ride doesn’t get here for a few hours.”

She looked at him skeptically. 

“And we could head back to Rosa’s and, I don’t know,  _ read _ , or whatever awful things you do in your free time.”

“I’m guessing there’s an ‘or’?”

“Or,” he drew out the syllable, “we could have a little fun.”

 

Whatever source he’d used had been correct. A colony of Griffon’s had made a home in a local valley and were terrorizing locals. Their vantage point was decent. The elevation let them see most of the creatures’ activity, and foliage concealed them.

“Wanna keep score?” Qrow whispered.

She turned her head slowly to face him. “Seriously?”

“Oh, I’m totally serious.” He reached into a jacket pocket, pulled out a flask, and took a drink before extending it to her. “Shoe polish?”

Cautiously, she took a sip and immediately suppressed a cough. More determinedly, she took a drink and asked, “What even is this?”

“That’s basically moonshine’s angry car mechanic uncle.”

“Descriptive.”

“Ready to go?” From their hiding spot, he pulled his weapon from its holster on his back. Keeping it collapsed, he aimed and quickly fired, bringing down a Griffon with a perfect shot between its eyes. “One.”

She made a point of checking her nails while they listened to the creatures begin to shuffle and roar. “Well, if it’s a dick measuring contest you want…” She stood with a casual gracefulness and unclipped her crop. Aiming easily, she watched streaks of purple shoot through the air and meet their targets. “Six.”

The Griffon’s frenzied, half taking flight and half stampeding the valley. She heard a loud click beside her, and Qrow shouted, “Two!” He dashed towards the fray, and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

She was surprised to learn they worked well together. Very surprised. They kept their distance but always kept the other somewhere in a line of sight. She was used to keeping a careful eye on teammates, but he easily held his ground.

As one last Griffon took to the sky, she extended her arm but pulled back when she saw a black bird following its trail. The bird flew just above its prey, and Qrow appeared midair. He swung down hard with his scythe right into the monster’s neck. Both beings crashed to the ground, and Qrow gave a loud cheer.

“Do I get bonus points for showmanship?” he shouted across the grass. 

“No,” she called back. 

For a minute he seemed to disappear, but she saw the flying silhouette approach. He landed, resumed his typical appearance, and leaned against his scythe. There was tremor in the ground, and they heard a heavy, rushing sound. Qrow met her eyes and took another drink. 

“Behind me?”

She nodded and pointed her crop. “Ten yards.”

“I got it,” he tossed her the flask and leaped around. 

The snake’s black head launched towards him, and he dodged it easily. He shot it twice to gain some distance, wrapped his blade around its neck, and sliced it off in a single, heavy swing. 

Glynda gestured behind him with the flask. “You’ve still got—”

“I know, I know.”

The second head always seemed more vicious. It hissed and struck wildly and unpredictably. Glynda took a long, lazy drink, capped the flask, and dropped it. The fight came closer and closer to her. 

“Need a hand?” she called. 

“Nope.”

She shook her head and took a few steps closer. “Quit fucking around, you’re just making it angry.”

“You don’t say!” 

Finally, his blade struck through the base of its neck, and before she could move or shout he ripped through the heavy muscle, smearing her with red.

As the massive body fell to the ground, he retracted his weapon and sheathed it. 

“That counts as two.”

Every muscle in her body tensed. Furious, she spat on the ground and wiped her stained mouth on her shoulder. “That counts as one.”

When he turned to face her, his expression was a perfect mixture of guilt and roguish amusement. 

“Whoops.”

Her eyes were livid. “Yeah, whoops.” She scowled at the state of her shirt.

“Hey, I didn’t tell you to wear white,” he teased, pulling off his jacket. “Here, you can’t walk around looking like a serial killer.”

Her fingers were slick, and she struggled with her buttons. After undoing the top half, she jerked the fabric over her head and rubbed her face with the relatively clean back. 

Qrow started to divert his eyes, but they caught on a long scar across her side. 

“Damn, kid.”

“Thanks,” she said flatly, rubbing her ruined shirt on her hands.

“No, smartass, I meant that scar.”

She took the jacket from his hand. 

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Is that from—”

She cut him off with, “I think we used up all our sharing time last night.”

“Fair enough. Guess this is all just as well. We need to head back to Rosa’s to get our stuff before our ride gets here. Ready to go?”

Her eyes were wide and furious.

“There’s another flask in that left pocket.”

“There better be.”

 

They neared the back entrance of the inn, and Glynda grabbed his arm. 

“I can’t go in there; look at me.”

He showed her a message screen on his scroll. “Relax, Rosa’ll bring everything out.”

The door opened and shut, and Rosa skipped over to them. When she caught sight of the pair, she giggled and covered her mouth. Gesturing to Glynda, she said, “Ok, now  _ this _ I’ll believe is your sister.”

“Don’t insult her,” he chided with a wink.

Rosa handed him the bags, still smiling. “Call me with good news sometime, ok?” She stood on her toes and kissed him. When she stepped back, he pulled her close for a second kiss then looked at her somberly. 

“Watch your back, babe.”

“I can handle myself. I’m a big girl, Robbie.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re fucking bite-sized.”

“No, you’re too fucking tall!” she turned in his arms to face Glynda. “Your whole family is. Bye-bye, Vi-Vi. Drop by if you can.”

“Take care,” she said with a quick wave.

Qrow’s eyes were wide. “Wow, that’s the most heartfelt goodbye I’ve ever heard from you, sister-o-mine.”

“Let’s get to the ship.”

 

The craft itself was different, but the flight was just as nerve racking. Even so, it landed in an open field and allowed the two of them to board, and she was thankful for that. An exit was difficult enough. She couldn’t imagine trying to board an airship that refused to land. 

As she sat next to Qrow, she felt lightheaded, possibly from the altitude and definitely from the liquor. 

“Thanks for tagging along.”

“Sure thing.”

“You feeling alright?” 

“Yeah, why?”

Highlights from the past two days flashed across his mind: how she may have felt at Fern’s home, telling Amber she’d taken a life, the scar that her aura hadn’t been able to heal.

“I don’t know. It’s a small talk question,” he shrugged. “Ready to get home?”

She laughed. “Yeah, why?”

“Wow, this is a great conversation.”

“I don’t think we can really do small talk,” she offered. “I mean, think about how we met. We’re not small talk friends.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I guess we’re not.” After a minute, he added, “Hey, pass me that flask in your pocket.”

She took a drink before handing it over, and he laughed again. “Can I ask you a question?”

She considered it for a minute. “Can I ask one back?”

“Sure.”

“Go for it.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked.

“Do I miss it?”

“Yeah, you know, the bare bones huntress stuff. Tracking someone down. Killing monsters. Do you miss it?”

She took a deep breath, and a slow half-smile formed on her face. “Nope.”

“Really? Not at all?”

Still smiling, she leaned her head back and turned to face him. “You only get one question.”

He shoved her shoulder, and she laughed. 

“Whatever. Your turn.”

“I’m saving mine.”

“What? No, fuck that, you can’t do that.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Wasn’t part of the rules.”

“I can’t wait to kick you out of this damn tin can.”

She laughed and glanced at her watch. “Well, that should be pretty soon. Do I get an actual landing?”

“Yeah, I think my boss would be pretty pissed if I sent you back in pieces.”

She held her fingers a short distance apart. “A little bit,” she agreed. 

“It could be kind of fun to see if drunk you can stick that landing.”

“I’m not that drunk. I could do it, but I genuinely... really, really don’t feel like it.”

“And I respect that.”

Once the ship landed, Qrow stood to follow her to the door. “Take care, kid. Catch you later.”

“Wait, your jacket!”

He waved a hand. “I’ll get it back from you eventually, starched and pressed I’m sure. Go to bed. And hurry before someone sees you, you slob.”

She laughed a bit too freely as she waved but took his advice to heart. At late as it was, she wasn’t surprised to find the campus misty and isolated. Though she was a bit closer to her personal quarters, she hurried towards the clock tower.

 

Admittedly, it was a bit irrational, but he felt as if he’d been wringing his hands since she left, and the lack of contact from the two of them did nothing to ease his mind. The objective was simple, the area was quiet, but Qrow wouldn’t have requested her presence unless there was a tangible threat. Whatever it was, Qrow was deliberately withholding any information, which did nothing for Ozpin’s nerves. For the past few hours he attempted to quell his worries with tea and reading but had been unsuccessful.

He flipped a page absentmindedly and heard an electronic chime at the flat’s entrance. When it slid open, he felt an immense weight leave his shoulders. With practiced patience, he set the antique book down gently and rose from his chair. 

He heard her footsteps approach, and nearly didn’t recognize her when she stood before him. Her hair was half-loose, and long, windswept curls framed her flushed face. Her black pants were smeared with dirt, and mud had caked on her boots. That, and she was wearing only a man’s jacket that was far too large on her frame. She completely and wholly contrasted her daily appearance. 

“You look like…” he began, and when she laughed he was even more surprised. 

“If you love me, you won’t finish that thought.”

His eyes scanned over her again, and he grinned, “Alright then.”

He stepped closer to her, and she held up a hand. There was a purple shimmer, and he felt a slight force against his chest. “Don’t touch me, I’m filthy.” Whatever charm Qrow managed to cast over the past few days dissipated before his eyes. “Every inch of me is covered in dirt, and my clothes smell like a sweaty animal, and, ugh, I’m tracking mud everywhere.”

“I’ll risk it.” He tilted her chin and gave her a soft kiss. “What on earth have you been drinking?”

“I don’t know, but I think it doubles as jet fuel.” 

He grinned and shook his head while he futilely brushed stray curls behind her ear. Her ordinarily silky hair felt heavy and brittle from exposure and sweat. He brushed her bangs aside and stopped when he saw a long red streak near her hairline. Tracing it with his thumb he asked, “What was that?”

“Just Qrow making a mess of a kill. He ruined my top, too.”

“Ah,” he glanced down at her current clothing. “That explains it.”

“I can’t wait to be back in my own clothes.” She unzipped her boots and levitated them to the front door. They bumped into the wall, and she winced. “Whoops. Alright, finally, a shower.”

On her way to their room, she passed a hallway mirror and gasped in horror. “No, no, no… people saw me like this!”

“Not many, I’m sure.”

“Have you been able to see my bra this whole time?”

When he didn’t immediately respond, she covered her face in her hands. “I came in from the landing pad on campus. What if someone had seen me? What if a student saw me? Why didn’t Qrow say anything? And that girl in the village…” 

She ran her hands through her messy hair, shook her head, and hurried to their room’s walk-in closet. A minute later, she emerged wearing her bathrobe. He followed her to the bathroom where she was furiously brushing her teeth. Standing behind her, he could see a leaf sticking out of her hair. He removed it and gave it a twirl, and she sighed heavily. He traced his hand across her back as he crossed the shower. He turned on the water and set the temperature high. When he turned, she was brushing tangles from her hair a bit too roughly. 

“Tea?”

“Yes, please, that sounds perfect.”

“We don’t have any jet fuel, but…”

She flashed a mocking smile. “Get out.”

The door slid shut behind him, and she hung her robe on a hook and stepped into the water. 

 

As she walked down the hall, Glynda fastened the top few buttons of her sleep shirt. She smiled when she saw him leaning against a counter and hurried to meet him. 

“I’m home,” she chimed. 

He glanced over her familiar appearance and pulled her closer. She was still smiling when he kissed her, and she draped her arms around his neck. Her smile faded when he held her even tighter and traced a hand up her back. When they finally broke apart, she was surprised to hear herself gasp. 

“I wasn’t gone that long,” she whispered. 

He kissed her forehead and whispered back, “But you were gone.” One of his hands moved to brush her hair from her face. 

“How’d everything go without me?”

He shook his head. “It was a disaster. The dining hall burned to the ground. The infirmary’s been quarantined. Peach took a first-year class into the forest, and they just,” he shrugged, “didn’t come back.”

“Wow.”

“Mhmm. Do you still want tea?”

She stifled a yawn. “Sure.” 

Smiling, he kissed her hair. “Go sit down, I’ll be right there.”

Yawning again, she walked over to the sofa, and she shouldn’t have been surprised when he was already waiting. When she sat down, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and passed her a warm mug. She took a sip, leaned against him, and closed her eyes. 

“How’s Annie?”

“She’s fine. She’s better,” he traced his fingers along her arm. “How was your outing with Qrow?”

“It definitely went as well as it could have. You should have seen her village. I forget places like that exist anymore. It was adorable.”

“Adorable?” 

“Don’t laugh; it really was,” she took a long drink. “The flowers, the cobblestones, it was all very sweet.” After another drink, she set the cup down and wrapped her arms around him. 

“Have you had enough of Vale and cities?”

She laughed softly. “Absolutely. I’ve always thought we should move to a secluded cottage somewhere.”

“Yes, that sounds exactly like something you’d want.”

“We can grow our own food.”

“Throw away our scrolls.”

“Probably have a rooster.”

“And a dog.”

“Cat,” she corrected.

“What? If you get a rooster, I get a dog.”

“I’m not getting a rooster,” she laughed, “He’s just there. He’s part of the picture.” She laughed sharply and added, “He can be a little friend for Qrow.”

He set his head in his hand and laughed. “I don’t think you’ve been this cheery in a while.”

“Three-hour long airship rides usually boost my mood pretty well,” she yawned. “And I think my body’s running on about fifth of moonshine and three apricots right now.”

“Apricots?”

“Amber grows them.” He felt her take a deep breath and waited for her next thought. “And speaking of Amber… I think we need to re-open the Atlas discussion.”

His eyes widened. “How’s that ‘speaking of Amber’?”

“She doesn’t want to go to an academy; she wants to stay home with her family. We’ve had that conversation, that’s done, but it got me thinking that we need to be able to give this girl every line of defense we can. I promised her and her grandmother I’d do my best to keep her safe, and I’m not keeping that promise by excluding Atlas from the dialogue.”

He sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

“I’ll call Qrow in a day or two. I can get him to agree with me, and then we have a majority vote. And then…”

“And then,” he agreed. He nodded and continued absentmindedly tracing lines on her arm. “If you were really given the choice, would you want that village life?”

“With the rooster?” she teased.

“If you’d like.”

“Letting someone else deal with all this?” She made a small, vague gesture with her hand. “Quietly growing old and grey and dying on the outskirts of civilization? No, thank you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

“So I’ve heard,” she mumbled. 

“Ready for bed?”

“I really am.”

Back in their room, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she was asleep almost instantly.

 

Ozpin was no stranger to sleepless nights. He hadn’t bothered to check the time, but he had been staring impassively out the window for the better part of an hour. His mind was racing, and he felt he couldn’t escape a red-eyed gaze. 

He heard a tired groan and rustle of sheets and watched Glynda blink awake. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Even in the middle of the night, there was a neatness to her appearance. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t. You should have, but you didn’t.” Not long ago, the feeling of movement beside her would have jolted her awake. “I’m losing my touch,” she added with a yawn.

Moments passed, and when he still said nothing she probed, “What are you thinking about?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, I’m just trying to clear my head.”

“Well, nothing does that quite as well as a mysterious midnight brood.”

He nearly smiled. 

“Do you want me to make a pot of tea?” she offered. 

Ozpin shook his head.

“Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

She reached out her hand, and he felt his own lifted and gently pulled in her direction. His eyes followed the line from his elevated hand to hers. The bright moonlight gave her light hair and pale skin an almost ethereal glow. The top few buttons of her sleepshirt had come undone while she slept, and stray hairs outlined her half-flattened curls. Even her dishevelment looked orchestrated. 

When he made no sign of moving, she threw off the sheets and walked over to the window. Arms crossed, she leaned against him, resting her head on his chest and following his gaze along the skyline. Ozpin wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. She unfolded her arms and ran her hands across the soft fabric of his shirt. Glynda had never seen him so openly vulnerable. She felt an intense, irrational desire to shield him from the world and never leave this room again. 

After several minutes of silence, she felt him take a deep breath and say, “I was out of my mind with worry while you were gone.”

“About me? About this?” she shook her head into his chest. “You’ve seen me take plenty of missions, and that’s not even what this was. I visited a little girl and came right home. And even if,” she heavily emphasized the last word, “If I needed his help, Qrow wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” 

“I know. You two can more than hold your ground against anyone, but I’m not sure we’re dealing with… anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

When he looked down at her, the world was quiet. She didn’t like when he used his semblance when they were alone; it was a distinctly unfair advantage. Right now, though, he needed to weigh his options. 

Whatever Qrow had stumbled upon was tied to Salem. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. He didn’t have a shred of concrete evidence, but he could feel a shift in the world around him. His nightmares lately were more vivid and frequent. The threads all led back to her. 

Soon enough, he would need to tell Glynda. He ran his fingers through her hair and imagined the horror on her face, her mind in a frenzy trying to protect the maidens and students and world. He wrapped a curl around his finger and sighed. 

“Nothing,” he answered. Her eyes flickered over to his hand. “I’m just glad you’re here.” 

He kissed the top of her head and untangled his hand. When she looked up at him, there was such ardor in her expression. The green and white of her face perfectly contrasted the black and red of his nightmares. He was torn between the desires to kiss her and to never look away before the flickering lick of her lips settled his decision. The kiss was tender and desperate, and the weight of it left a gasp on her lips. Glynda reached for his hand on her cheek, held it in both of hers, and kissed it softly. Her eyes were dark as she took a step back, pulling him by the hand. This time, he followed.

With the smallest movement of her fingers, she pulled back the sheets before he leaned against the pillows. She crossed to the other side of the bed, and he pulled the sheets over himself. With the ghost of a smirk, she waved her hand and pulled them away. In a single movement, she crawled across the bed and stretched along his body. She settled one leg between his and hovered above him, running her fingers through his hair. A few minutes passed before she took a deep breath.

“I know that you want to keep me safe, and I know that you don’t want to talk or think about… her. But I signed up for all of this,” she paused, trying to articulate her thoughts. “I’m so thankful that you trust me enough to bring me into this part of your life. I really am. You’ve given me so much. And I know… I know there might always be… subjects that you have to keep from me. That’s just in the nature of what we do. But I’m not fragile. Your job is to protect the guardians, not me.”

She turned his face towards hers. “You’re not alone in this, Ozpin.”

Leaning forward, she kissed him softly at first. She covered his face with feather-light gazes of her lips: his cheeks, his jaw, his brow. She tasted tears on his lashes and left hopeful promises on his mouth. When he traced a hand along her side and parted his lips, she deepened this kiss until she heard a soft moan. Adjusting her leg, she settled her hips above his and sat perfectly tall. Glynda rested her hands on his shoulders, and he followed her guidance by sitting up. He felt her fingers stretch under his shirt and along his skin  as the shirt was pulled up and over his head. Ozpin leaned forward and kissed her quickly before her hands returned to his shoulders, and she pushed him down onto the bed. Her eyes met his for several beats before her mouth covered his. Her hips were heavy above his, and every kiss was deep and lingering. When he moaned into her mouth, tremors shot down her spine. Slowly, she traced a hand down his chest; her lips left his and began following the trail left by her fingers.  

“Glynda, I…”

“Shh.” He felt a weight like an invisible hand cover his mouth. “You said you didn’t want to talk.”

He didn’t say another word until later in the night when he gasped, “I love you.” Shaking and struggling for even breaths, she hovered inches above his face and whispered, “I love you, too.” He pulled her almost too tightly against him, and she smiled when his breathing slowed. 

 

With the Vytal Festival at Beacon that year, the dance was especially extravagant, and it was nearly two in the morning before the ballroom was empty. Streamers and balloons adorned the walls, and a layer of glitter coated the wooden floors. The DJs were packing up their equipment and getting ready to leave. The space seemed empty and cavernous without the hundreds of students who occupied it throughout the night. 

After glancing around the room, she took her crop from its clip on her belt and gave it a quick wave. The balloons popped, and the decorations arced across the room into a bin. One of the DJs gave a shout of surprise and jumped backwards. 

The heavy door behind her opened and closed slowly. With another wave, the tables and chairs reorganized to their original positions. 

“Usually, it’s the organizing students’ responsibility to take care of the tidying,” Ozpin noted.

She shrugged. “It takes me half a minute and saves them a few hours. I don’t mind.”

“How generous.”

“Besides, those girls will be scrubbing glitter out of these panels all day tomorrow. I don’t want to see a speck of this damn stuff ever again.”

“There it is.”

She returned the crop to her belt and turned to face him. “Ready to go?”

He took a step closer to her. “As long as we’re here…”

“No,” she grumbled.

He looked around the empty room. “Stage fright?”

“That’s exactly it. You know me well.”

When he didn’t retort, she sighed, “I’ve been standing for hours. I’d be a terrible partner.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“We don’t have any music,” but as she protested a classic, mellow song faded into the speakers. She looked over her shoulder and saw one of the musicians giving Ozpin a thumbs-up. She gave an exasperated sigh and took his hand.

She had mixed emotions toward dancing. Growing up, she’d hated it. She was tall and lanky. During her academy years she allowed her teammates to drag her to only one school dance. Even then, she hadn’t stayed the whole time. 

Technically speaking, however, she was a beautiful dancer. And while she knew she may never be rid of decades of trepidation, she loved the way her body felt against his. She learned that a dance was more than training and technique. There was a chemical element to the synchronization, like combat or sex. And over the last several years, she learned that none of those had any meaning before him.

When he spun her out and back into his arms, she moved ever so slightly closer to him. His hand felt heavier on her back.

“Are your feet still bothering you?”

“Don’t ruin this.”

She saw a smirk flash across his face as his hand left hers. The hand on her back moved near her shoulder blades, and for half a heartbeat she felt like she was falling. With a gasp of surprise, her hands clasped around his neck, and he wrapped his arm around her to hold her waist. She brought her left foot up to her knee to maintain balance. She felt a blush creep over her cheeks even before she met his gaze. 

“Clever,” she admitted.

“I try.”

She tightened her grip on his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. When she bit his lip, his fingers dug into her skin. 

There was a loud, heavy thud against the door, and a rare, annoyed sigh caught in his throat. 

“Maybe they’ll go away,” she whispered against his lips.

The door began to creep open, and he hurriedly pulled her up. 

“Where’s my fucking bag?” a slurring voice shouted from the other side. 

“Shhhhhhhhh!”

There was a series of loud laughter, and four very drunk students poured in the room. She recognized three of them from a graduating team. The other must have been a transfer student visiting for the festival. Glynda gave Ozpin a sharp glance. She moved to walk towards them, but he grabbed the back of her blouse and pulled her back. 

“Seriously, where’s my fucking bag?” the girl demanded again. 

One of the boys laughed, “I don’t know, what does it… what does it fucking look like?”

“It’s, um, it’s kinda silver.”

“Where’d you put it?”

“On the table right… Where’s the table?”

Scanning the room, Glynda saw a ‘kinda silver’ handbag on one of the rearranged tables across the room. Grinning, she extended a hand and levitated the entire table over to the group. Three of them screamed.

The transfer student loudly whispered, “What the hell?” and the bag’s owner blanched and tried to steady herself. She forced herself to focus as her eyes made the inevitable trail over to her teachers.

“Oh, shit.”

Glynda nodded.

“Hey, um, professors, um…”

“Who’s that?” asked the transfer student. 

“Go to bed, kids,” she called, opening the heavy door with a wave.

The girl made to run to the door, turned on her heel, grabbed her bag, and sprinted after her friends. Glynda returned the table and walked after them, watching to make sure they reached their dorm.

“How generous of you.”

“Not really. They’ll remember this forever. That’s punishment enough. Besides,” she added with a shrug, “that girl’s graduating third in her class. She’s done her time. She deserves a night off with her friends.”

Now outside, she heard the music cut out in the ballroom. She felt his hand slip into hers as he asked, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“About the first years’ shadow mission? Reasonably confident.”

“And about the Atlas meeting?”

“Somewhat less confident. And you?”

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

 

The following afternoon, he sat with his head in his hand, thinking how it couldn’t possibly worse. 

“Why wasn’t I informed years ago?”

“That was—”

“That was deemed the safest course of action at the time by a majority vote,” Ozpin clarified, “but enough have come around to a different perspective. As you well know, academy leaders have more power and influence than anyone, which is why this organization those them to look after the maidens.”

“Though your position was viewed as having these in excess.”

The look Ozpin flashed her was none too pleased as he continued, “For the better part of a century, our kingdoms have existed cohesively, and I don’t intend to be the one to jeopardize that.”

Ironwood seemed to look past them for a moment. “I understand. I’m familiar with the necessity of secrecy for the sake of national and global security.”

Glynda turned to Ozpin with wide eyes. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. 

“Would it be possible for me to see one of them?”

“’See one of them?’” she repeated slowly.

“Yes, if I may. If what you’re saying is true, then there are innumerable applications for their abilities. It must be fascinating to—”

“I’m sorry, I must be misunderstanding you. You can’t be asking to have a young girl paraded before you for observation.”

“Glynda…” Ozpin cautioned.

“No, I won’t allow him to refer to them as objects for study.”

“There’s no need to be so defensive, I only meant—”

“There is every need to be defensive.”

“If you could understand the scope of the medical and scientific breakthroughs Atlas is on the brink of, you’d appreciate the opportunity this grants us to benefit and protect the world.”

“Protecting the world is no longer my primary concern. I train the men and women who will take on that responsibility. My concern is keeping the maidens safe from men who view them as a source of power to reverse engineer.”

“I would never jeopardize their safety of any human life.”

“So long as those lives are within your borders, General?”

Ironwood took a deep breath. “Are you quite through?”

“Hardly.”

He nodded and fought to keep a grin in check. She felt his eyes scan over her, analyzing. She crossed her arms tightly but refused to back down from his stare.

Turning back to Ozpin, he noted, “That’s quite a spitfire you have there.”

Glynda opened her mouth, and Ozpin hurried to talk over her. “She’s right, though. However fleeting or well-intended the thought may seem, it’s a grievous error to think of the maidens as anything more or less than what they are.”

“I’ll be sure not to repeat that mistake.”

“See that you don’t,” she cautioned. “Well, I think that covers everything for today. You can go.”

Ozpin’s eyes widened with shock, and Ironwood seemed to fight off a bark of laughter. 

“Enjoy the tournament, sir.” He inclined his head towards her. “Glynda.”

“James.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Ozpin threw his face in his hands, and Glynda leaned back heavily on the desk. 

“I can’t stand him.”

Ozpin lowered one hand, so he could look over at her. “Really? Can’t you? Well, you were simply masterful at disguising it, my dear.”

“What? No secrets between us friends, isn’t that the philosophy?”

“He is our newest and most powerful ally, most powerful in any number of meanings. Should I remind you this was your idea?”

“I know, I know… I hope it wasn’t a mistake.”

“As do I.”

She turned to face him. “I’ll rain down hell before I let him touch those girls.”

“You got that point across,” he said with a slight smile.

“And not just because I, I’m personally invested. Maybe we could learn something from studying their powers, but that doesn’t mean we should.”

“That’s absolutely true.” He reached across the glass and traced his fingers over her hand and watched her expression soften. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank you.”

“Just not right now.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

 

She wasn’t surprised the General was staying on on of the ships, but the felt distinctly uncomfortable walking through it. It was overwhelmingly  cold, quiet, and mechanical. She was assigned an escort which didn’t surprise her but still set her on edge.

Outside Ironwood’s door, the escort scanned her scroll and stood in customary silence. When the door opened, his surprise was evident. 

“I’d like to talk about our meeting earlier,” she began, and he dismissed the accompanying girl in uniform.

“I’m surprised to see you,” he admitted. “What can I do?”

“I can’t be objective about these girls.”

“Clearly.”

“But,” she pressed on, “I don’t view that as a weakness. Their safety is always my first priority, and I don’t make concessions on that.”

“I don’t mean to pose a threat.”

“You don’t. And if you did even faintly, you wouldn’t be here. You’re here because the kingdoms need to be a united front on this.”

“I agree,” he leaned against the wall and visibly relaxed. “You know, you’re not the first to come out of the woodwork looking for a military alliance.”

“This is different.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here. I know more than anyone that other kingdoms’ perceptions of Atlas are… conflicting and inconsistent.”

She shrugged.

“But you’ve given me an opportunity to help people across borders and against a common, very real threat. What you’re describing, that’s why Atlas initially instituted its armed forces.”

“Good, well, I’m glad we’re on the same page. We’re a small enough group as it is, and we don’t need any animosity, especially since we’ll be seeing more of each other from now on.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

She shook her head, “Goodnight, James. Tell your teams I wish them the best at the festival.”

“Do you?”

She gave a small wave as she opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy, guys. I missed you, too. So, here's a life update since last we spoke: I've moved, twice, and I'm now in Nashville (ye-fuckin-haw, y'all!) with a swankey new job. Let me tell you, moving is hard, and moving across the country is the worst. It sucks up all your time and energy, and the stress fucks up your skin. That being said, I'm loving everything, and my life is awesome. But, with the whole moving gig, my computer's been in storage for weeks, so I haven't been able to work on writing things. 
> 
> There's your simultaneously half-assed and drawn out explanation for why this hasn't been updated in eighty-four years. 
> 
> tldr: feast or famine, nerds


End file.
